Oh it was a big day

Okay. The END of the story is, I'm fine.

Now - the story.

I fell today. And I wrecked my bike. And, remember the beginning, I am fine.

See, it was hot this morning but sort of cloudy and looking like it might rain and looking like it might get cold EVEN THOUGH the weather report said it was going to just get warmer than the 61 degrees it started out at. And the rule of thumb in this regard is you are supposed to start out a little chilly because you warm up when you ride.

But I listened to my internal worrier and put on my arm warmers (these are like long gloves without the fingers), disregarding all signs that were telling me I would not need them. And sure enough, almost as soon as we started riding, I got hot. At only 4 miles into the ride. And even though our foursome has said, again and again, DON'T APOLOGIZE for asking for something, like wanting to stop, I didn't want to make everyone stop when we had just gotten started so, instead of stopping or asking for everyone else to stop so I could take off a layer of clothing, I decided to take off my arm warmers while I was riding.

Big mistake.

I slipped them down to my wrists and, still not cool enough and still not wanting to make everyone stop for me, I took them off, one at a time and, one at a time, tucked them into my jersey pockets, the ones at my lower back. So far so good. Except not really, because one of them was not really in the pocket and when I straightened out my jacket, one of the arm warmers slipped and went onto my back wheel and fell down right into my derailleur. And that, my friends, meant that I came to a stop. Instantly.

And that, as you might imagine, is a bad thing, instantly stopping while riding. I went down, landing on my left knee, my left elbow, all the things on the left side of me. And the arm warmer, tangled in the rear derailleur, broke the thing, bending it up and out and, well, in completely the wrong place for it to be. I bent my handlebars, bent my left brake lever, my left everything. And that was it for riding my bike.

The way this got to be a good story with a good ending is that Marci, a rider from New York City who is riding for the Davis Phinney Fund for Parkinson's Disease, has a boyfriend named Michael who is here visiting for a couple of days and right after I fell she showed up and so did everyone else and we created quite a spectacle there on the side of the road. Enough so that even the Sherriff stopped and THEN we were a BIG scene. Jan got out her first aid kit and gave me some antiseptic cleaning pads and some ointment and we cleaned my skinned knee and shin. And Marci called Michael and Michael came (we had only gone 4 miles) and just then so did Nancy, the SAG driver for the day. In a very short time a decision was made, not completely by me (I was not exactly thinking very clearly right then), that Michael would take me back to the motel, where I would get Nancy's (the SAG driver) bike and Michael would take my bike to the bike store to get it fixed. Michael is a rider too and knows what he's doing and, well, that seemed okay, sort of, I mean, aside from letting a stranger spend his whole day fixing my bike and me getting on someone else's bike and continuing to ride. So that's what happened. Michael and Carol and Linda (the staff gals) helped me fit onto Nancy's bike and Michael took me and Nancy's bike to where my three friends had gotten to - about 9 miles beyond where I left them. I got on Nancy's bike and Michael left with my banged up Trek. Total elapsed time: 30 minutes. Maybe.

So I got to ride Nancy's bike today, all but 9 miles of the day's 72. Michael ended up taking my Trek to three different stores to get it fixed and now it is back and I am clean, though kind of bruised and more than a little bit sore.

But nothing on me really broke. And the broken things on the bike are fixed. And Michael is an angel, a Guardian Angel. And so is Nancy. And so are my three buddies who took care of me when I rejoined them. Not to mention Linda and Carol, the staffers, and Marci and all of the other riders who have all hugged me and have expressed wonder and commiseration as the day has gone on.

And now I'm sitting on my bed writing to you. I think it is going to have to be okay that I am not going to be able to ride those 9 miles right now. I think I'll be okay with that. Maybe I'll ride some other 9 mile stretch sometime. Maybe. Maybe not. Frankly, I grateful to be here, safe, clean, and just a little bit scratched.

Oh, today I saw two Great Blue Herons and, when I arrived, Marci gave me a penny. Gifts of my spirit guides.

Masterton. Over and out.
I'll be in touch tomorrow.

A clean bike is a happy bike

I never knew how to clean a bike before. Actually, I used to take my bike to the bike shop to have THEM clean it. Imagine! Now I find it ever so satisfying to take a long time to go over every inch of my little red TREK, scouring it, loving it. There is a great product called Simple Green that we have. It takes away grease and is non toxic. My kind of cleaner.

There is a certain order I follow when cleaning my bike, a certain method I now have that puts me in a quiet place. Today's session was particularly satisfying because for a long time I was all by myself in the parking lot. Now there are a number of riders, all cleaning bikes, sharing tips. giving help, having fun, but not being completely quiet. Not being meditative.

I opened the trailer, set up up bike stand, put my bike up on it, and began the cleaning. The chain, the rear cassette, the chain ring, the toe cleats, the frame, the brakes. I strip the bike first, taking off all the bags and bottles and it looks so fresh and new and unencumbered. I don't carry a lot of gear, but still, when I get it ready for cleaning, it seems so innocent. I have spent a lot of time with this machine in these past weeks and I feel very attached to it.

My bike is now pristine once again. The chain ring is clean, the cassette, glistening. All the cogs of the chain are clean and have new lubrication. All the metal-touching-metal junctions are siliconed. I've gone over the tires, the brakes, the spokes, the frame.

A rest day is a good thing. I had a massage. I ate lunch. I cleaned my bike. I will have dinner later. I might have a nap now. Tomorrow we're back to it. I'm ready, with not-so-tired legs and a very clean bike.

Cheers for now.
Laurey

Those Texas Bluebonnets

Here we are in Bluebonnet country. Oh it is a glorious time to be here. Lady Bird Johnson left quite a legacy - flowers, flowers everywhere. And NOW is the time to be here. Right now. And here we are. In Bluebonnet Land.

Tra la.

The fields are full of these blue babies. From a distance there is a blue haze. On close inspection one finds scads, loads, heaps, piles. of them. And there are Indian Paintbrush which are orange and evening Primrose which are a lovely light pink. And Coreopsis are yellow and it goes on and one. The red dots the middle of a blue sweep. The yellow masses behind. Red. Blue. Yellow. My favorites. Laid out and huge bunches. Oh beauty. Oh beauty.

Before I left I heard a prayer:
Beauty in front of me.
Beauty behind me.
Beauty above me.
Beauty below me.
Beauty to my left and beauty on my right.

Today was that. Surrounded, surrounded by this color. And then all of it dotted on a huge background of rich green. Don't forget the green. The palette. Bliss. Bliss.

Sherry and Connie and Jan and I rode all together today. 70 miles or so. Rolling out of the hill country, no major climbs, no major descents. Just rolling and rolling and the green, ever green rich and thick and dotted with cows and bulls and calfs jumping around and sleeping horses and belted Galloway cows (the ones with the thick white band surrounded by black) and Brahmas and other odd types.

This is a beautiful place.

We stopped in Independence for lunch at the Independence Grocery Store. Sassy times reading the hot sauces and spice mixes with nasty little names. And, just off the bikes and full of ourselves we, as usual, created a scene. We were so happy to be out and warm and strong and headed to a rest day. And though I, for one, have enjoyed this Texas experience, it is also true that in two or three days we will leave and that, my friends, is a major accomplishment. A full third of this trip is Texas. Stunning.

Now the gang waits for dinner, happily chirping away down below my second story room. We tuck into our plastic chairs and drink a beer and visit and it is a fine day and most everyone rode and my laundry is done and what they all DON'T know is that my crew from "Laurey's" sent brownies and congo bars and that is tonight's dessert. Ha!! Fun surprise.

So tomorrow we loll around and then hop back on for more.

Right now it's time for dinner.
Tell someone you love them. It's that kind of a day.

Cheers,
Laurey

Thank heavens for an easy day. I was wondering why I felt so "sloggy" this morning and then realized I had ridden 90 some odd miles yesterday. That'll take it out of a girl, I'll tell you. This trip was supposed to be "an average of 60 miles per day." Well, what that REALLY means is that there are 90 mile days and 40 mile days and other mile days too. All AVERAGE 60, but on a day to day basis, "average" loses its meaning.

90 is a lot. 40, not so much. Thankfully!!

Today started in the Bastrop State Park, a glorious creation of the glaciers, which deposited some special soils in the area, making it a perfect spot for some odd pine trees. Those pine trees are not found in other areas, just right there. Indeed, as we rode out, 16 miles after entering the park, we came into rolling meadows, horse farms, pastures, and open land. And we'd just been tucked into the woods, rolling and climbing up steep pitches and down precipitous drops. FUN! (It might have been a little early - first thing on a Monday morning to go rolling up and down like that, but by and large it was a romp.)

We're now in La Grange. This is where the real Chicken Ranch once was, THAT chicken ranch, the Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. There are plenty of like-named businesses in the area, a salon called the Best Little Hairhouse in Texas...as so on. Did you know I did a short stint as a dresser on Broadway? My job was helping those sweaty football player/dancer/whorehouse visiting chorus boys out of and into their costumes. Can you say sweaty dance belt?

I digress.

Tomorrow is another rest day. Seems awfully soon, since we just rested in Kerrville, but frankly, I am tired today and will not mind a day to get a little more recovery into my legs. I've tried massaging them myself but I'm not very good at it. Hopefully I can find someone ELSE who will not fall asleep while she/he works on my legs. I hope.

Anyway - short note today. We were tired. We rode. We're here. Short story.

Tomorrow might provide more.
Cheers,
Laurey

90 miles to Bastrop

Oh me oh my.

Another near epic day. Okay, not really epic, but certainly one that shall be remembered years from now when I think back on this journey.

To start with, the day's ride was listed as 92 miles. And, as usual, we scoured the weather stations and weather underground and the NOAA site and any other weather source we could get our hands on to see what we had in store. The first part, the temperature, is now the least of our concerns. I mean, we look, see, and store away the 54 at 7am, 64 at 10am, 74 at 1pm and 84 at 4pm information. File it. And then we turn to the wind direction. That, along with the direction the wind is coming from are two key pieces of information. And then I hop on google maps and compare the cue sheet (which tells the exact roads and all the turns) with the map, noting which roads are headed north, east, north by northeast and so on.

Today's ride headed south at first, then east, then north, then east and then, finally south. The wind, listed as 15 - 20 was to come from the north. Gulp. 90 miles, much of it coming from the side or, for a good chunk of time and miles, right at us.

Nothing to be done about it. We got on the bikes at first light after, for me, an extra large serving of steel cut oatmeal with brown sugar, raisins, butter (a big chunk of it) and milk. This breakfast keeps me going for quite a while, both quickly and then, slowly, releasing the more complex sugars and carbs, throughout the morning.

Part 1 was lovely. We're still in Hill Country and today took us past all the postcard pictures we had seen at all the shops. Beautiful rivers, dams, limestone-lined creeks. We had a slight cross wind, but nothing terrible. Just before lunch, 30 miles from lunch actually, we turned and had a major boost of a blast of a ride, whooshing along with that 20 mile an hour tail wind. JOY!!!

Lunch. "Whataburger." Not bad. Not great. Nice to have a stop.

And then, the work started. We rode north briefly, right into the wind, and then turned east and had a wind for then next 25 miles that hit on the left temple. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. This is called slogging, not riding. It is meditation, it calls on everything I can find inside myself to keep pedaling, keep going, keep remembering that this is an important ride, and important project and to stop would be a decision I would always regret.

I kept going. Kept going. Kept going.

Sherry had taken off and then Jan did too so it was just Connie and me, trading the lead, telling a few stories, looking for signs that we were doing this hard, hard thing. And we kept it up and the miles passed and we kept pedaling and the wind did not stop and we did not either and then we came over a rise and saw seven more rises laid out for the next couple of miles and we kept pedaling and made it to the top of the last rise and saw five more laid out for the next mile and we kept going and kept our feet moving and saw more rises and rode more miles and stopped for a bite of sandwich or, for Connie, a blood check and then we rode more and some more and just a little bit more.

The two of us stuck it out. We're now here. I'm going to take a shower. Dinner will be soon.
We rode 90 miles today.

I decided that today's ride is for the main organization I am raising money for. The Ovarian Cancer National Alliance (OCNA) is behind me all the way. With the money I raise they will keep doing what they do - advocating for more funds to be spent on ovarian cancer research; helping spread the word about the importance of understanding the early warning signs for ovarian cancer; working with medical schools to help new doctors understand these things.

If you have not joined me and would like to, I would be honored to accept your donation. My goal is $50,000.00. Before the ride started I had gathered some $33,000.00. If you'd like to join me, send a check written to Jubilee (my church, which is holding the funds for me) and write Laurey Bikes in the memo line. Then send the check to Jubilee, 46 Wall Street, Asheville, NC 28801.

And thank you for reading these words of mine and for writing notes to me. They do get to me and I hold them close.

I'll tell you some more tomorrow.

Cheers,
Laurey

Still in Hill Country

I'm in Blanco, Texas tonight. Hill Country. Lavender country, though we're a bit early for that. And, due to a drought, though we are also in Bluebonnet Country, we might not get to see any.

Today's ride, a gorgeous and perfectly manageable 64 mile jaunt, took us through limestone, more limestone. It's drier here than it was when we were lower down. We've climbed back up a bit now and it's arid and, today, hot.

Comfort, Texas is a cutie pie stop where we ate German pastries and bantered with the saleswoman/owner. She was sarcastic and funny and we tossed it right back to her, which made her laugh out loud and shake her head at our audacity. We're always ready with a smart retort, at least I find myself in that spot a lot these days. And, well, we're not FROM here so that's a license for a smarty-pants and, though I don't often let these smarty-pants thoughts OUT in the rest of my life, they seem to be escaping with reckless abandon. It's fun for a change.

And Blanco is a one street town of cute stores and lavender this and lavender that. We had some superlative barbecued beef brisket here along with beans and coleslaw and, for me, an icy cream soda. Hit the spot. And we ran into Brian, a fellow who is riding alone across the country. He knew we were out here and had been hoping to find us. We know of two men from Alaska and one guy from Ohio who are riding now too. And the other day we ran across 4 men who are doing this route from east to west. It's interesting. We compare stories, backgrounds, whys.

Tomorrow we go along some more in Texas. Have I mentioned recently how big Texas is? When we get to Alabama or Mississippi, two days each, we'll not know what to do. I have to say that any preconceived notions I had have all been smashed to bits. This is a beautiful part of the world and I am, still, delighted to be riding my bike on top of these old rocks and through these old hills.

Tomorrow is also a long ride. 94 miles. I'll tell you all about it when I get finished with the ride.
Cheers, until then.

Oh, this picture is for my two sisters, Heather and Lucinda. They've been following these reports and I screeched to a stop to pose in front of this sign. Hello sisters dear!!!
(Love to you both!)
Laurey

Oh oh oh What a day THIS was! Here we thought we had it all under control. Connie and Sherry and Jan and I had gotten ourselves all geared up, as usual, for what we thought was going to be a fairly easy last day of this stretch. I mean, the four of us made it all 111 miles the other day. The four of us had ridden all the miles the next day and the next day. And today was supposed to be just another little 50 miler. No sweat.

Except that in the middle of the night last night we heard a roar that turned out to be the wind coming in from the northeast. Well, our direction today was northeast. NOT a good combination. Yesterday we had a 40 mile day and much of IT was into the wind and up three very steep hills. But the four of us had done well on that section so, though we were AWARE of the weather, we all hopped on our bikes and headed off, bright and early.

The hills were completely doable. We've been riding on top of the Edwards Limestone plateau. Occasionally we drop down to the layer that is the Buda Limestone (I hope I'm reporting this correctly). And then we go back up. It's about a mile up or down. Fun down. Hard up. 8-12% grade. But we had a tail wind for that section and actually got a boost UP the steeps today. And at one point, on one of the lower flats, there was a herd of antelope and deer and KANGAROOS and Bison. Oh, and Longhorns too. And it was breezy but not overwhelming.

At mile 24 we stopped in Medina for Apple Pie. YUM!!!! With apple pie flavored soft ice cream and, for those who wished (I didn't) apple pie flavored coffee. As I'm sure I've said, we can and do eat anything we want, and as much of it as we want. Big breakfast at 7:30. Pie at 10? No worries.

But right after the pie stop the wind picked up and for about 5 miles we were all riding as hard as we could, going pretty much nowhere. The gusts were coming in really hard. REALLY hard. And a person of my size is, well, not so big, especially now, and the winds really took charge. We plugged on and made it to the bottom of the last climb. The SAG driver came by and said that four people had fallen, one was being checked out by a doctor (she's fine and is my roommate tonight and is fully herself) and for us to please be very careful. They have not told us to be very careful before.

Anyway, the four of us did all the miles today. Up the steeps. Down. Riding through the crosswinds. Riding into strong headwinds. Ocassionaly being shoved along by a tailwind. Rough riding for much of the day. There are some scary times here. Today, with those crosswinds, was one.

Tomorrow we have the day off. Fine by me. I could use a little bit of nothing for a day.

Oh, sorry about no post yesterday. Vanderpool, Texas has 22 people and no internet. Ah well. We all came out of our rooms and played stupid card games and laughed uncontrollably about absolutely nothing. Grand times. Grand.

That's it for now. Gotta go have dinner. It has been 3 hours since my last meal. Yipes!