Miles: 83
Weather:102 degrees
Feet climbed: nearly 5000
I never really drink coffee. I am more one of those would prefer some coffee with their milk type. Yet after 4 hours sleep and another 80 mile day of hills and heat ahead, I was searching for the blackest cup of joe around. At mile 12 we hit Papa pizza and milk shake joint. My taste buds cringed at the thought of what this cup might behold, but my brain soaked it up like sweet candy.
Today I played the role of sweep. Yes, like the street sweeper we trail behind riders swooping them up fixing tires, finding lost riders and towing them along with us to the final destination.
Mentally at breaking points, I sat by the side of the road with a defeated rider, who bawled in the hot sun wanting to give up and quit. I could only say "you're never going to make it up that hill with the look of defeat in your eyes. No one said this was going to be easy." Reality is setting in, we are biking across the country and yeah, it's definitely a task testing every ounce and soul, but without one ounce of regret.
The ride today was brutal. I spent 13 hours on the road, my toosh worn raw, but in good company. Sweeping with lovely Erin Kewiel, she requires precise 15 minute pee stops, raspberry vanilla milk shakes, fills my time with a laugh so bubbly you'd want to pocket it. At mile 20 we were joined by Alyssa, a 23 year old lively preschool teacher who's friends and family dominate mail drops with fresh baked gluten free banana bread. We host 80s pop concerts on the side of the road, gossip about long old teenage crushes on boy bands of our day, and convince whole foods to donate 2lbs of grapes to our bellies.
At dusk we arrive at the top of the final climb to be swept away by a breathtaking view of Pittsburgh. Wowers, 1/2 delirious from heat, my butt sores, my legs, and 80 miles behind us, it was as though we flew into the valley laughing and cheering about this beautiful sky scraping men of knights city filled with ancient brick towers cobblestone roads and the perfect mix of diversity, culture. As if Boston was to makes babies with Oakland CA, Pittsburgh is what it would be called, cement landscape broken by two powerful rivers diverging and a sunset the color of cotton candy.
Our host, a stone castle methodist church centered in the heart of the city's financial district and home to Heinz ketchup factory and Andy Warhol, stood aged and giant above our tired bikes and legs. Home sweet home.
Weather:102 degrees
Feet climbed: nearly 5000
I never really drink coffee. I am more one of those would prefer some coffee with their milk type. Yet after 4 hours sleep and another 80 mile day of hills and heat ahead, I was searching for the blackest cup of joe around. At mile 12 we hit Papa pizza and milk shake joint. My taste buds cringed at the thought of what this cup might behold, but my brain soaked it up like sweet candy.
Today I played the role of sweep. Yes, like the street sweeper we trail behind riders swooping them up fixing tires, finding lost riders and towing them along with us to the final destination.
Mentally at breaking points, I sat by the side of the road with a defeated rider, who bawled in the hot sun wanting to give up and quit. I could only say "you're never going to make it up that hill with the look of defeat in your eyes. No one said this was going to be easy." Reality is setting in, we are biking across the country and yeah, it's definitely a task testing every ounce and soul, but without one ounce of regret.
The ride today was brutal. I spent 13 hours on the road, my toosh worn raw, but in good company. Sweeping with lovely Erin Kewiel, she requires precise 15 minute pee stops, raspberry vanilla milk shakes, fills my time with a laugh so bubbly you'd want to pocket it. At mile 20 we were joined by Alyssa, a 23 year old lively preschool teacher who's friends and family dominate mail drops with fresh baked gluten free banana bread. We host 80s pop concerts on the side of the road, gossip about long old teenage crushes on boy bands of our day, and convince whole foods to donate 2lbs of grapes to our bellies.
At dusk we arrive at the top of the final climb to be swept away by a breathtaking view of Pittsburgh. Wowers, 1/2 delirious from heat, my butt sores, my legs, and 80 miles behind us, it was as though we flew into the valley laughing and cheering about this beautiful sky scraping men of knights city filled with ancient brick towers cobblestone roads and the perfect mix of diversity, culture. As if Boston was to makes babies with Oakland CA, Pittsburgh is what it would be called, cement landscape broken by two powerful rivers diverging and a sunset the color of cotton candy.
Our host, a stone castle methodist church centered in the heart of the city's financial district and home to Heinz ketchup factory and Andy Warhol, stood aged and giant above our tired bikes and legs. Home sweet home.