Day 42- HALFWAY ACROSS THE COUNTRY ON THETRANSAM TRAIL post

Hello! For all the loyal blog fans out there, I don't think I've posted my innermost thoughts about the tour for two weeks so this is me doing that now. This is the special "Super sappy but not so sappy HALFWAY ACROSS THE COUNTRY ON THE TRANSAM TRAIL" post. Hope you enjoy the novel!

INTRO: We've biked 2,176 miles. We have 2,056 more miles until we reach Astoria, OR. After Pueblo, we'll be swooping up the Rockies hitting our max altitude of around 11,000 feet before heading north to Wyoming, over to Yellowstone, up to Missoula, Montana, through the land of potatoes, and on to Portlandia and the gorgeous coast of Oregon. Afterwards, imma solo ride up to Seattle and fly or take a 3-day train to Boston- hopefully by Sept. 1. Boom. Now here's the innermost thoughts section of the ride:

Hiking!

COLORADO!!! Michael "Michael Taylor" Taylor and I are in the luxurious home of another one of his dope/rad family members in Colorado Springs while Chris and Dylan make their way to Pueblo (Chris got a new wheel shipped since his back wheel was poo and so him and Dylan hung back in Kansas while me and Michael pedaled to Colorado.) Me and MT got super lucky in Kansas/Eastern Colorado (which basically still Kansas), having tailwinds and overcast skies for all but the last two days so we booked it- doing two 100+ miles rides, two 80+, and one 65er in the span of five days. #milebrag. The last day was super special as Michael and I biked 105 miles for the sole purpose of making it to Pueblo, CO before Sunday so we could eat Chick-fil-a. God bless it.

I've only been in Colorado for two days and I'm already in love. Today, we went on a rad hike in the most crispest, not humid air I've ever felt and couldn't believe that so many people live here and just do this shit every weekend. People are out cycling, hiking, riding horses, doing super beautiful outdoorsy stuff in this outdoor wonderland underneath the most expansive sky I've ever seen and this is their life. How do they do that?! How can I get enough money to do that?! Maybe I should move here.

Anyways, Kansas. Kansas was like nothing I've ever seen. Up til then, we'd been in pretty similar, familiar land. Not to diminish or hate on the beauty of our first four states (Virginia being my pre-Colorado favorite), but Kansas was stupid silly. This picture I took pretty much captures it for me. I got off my bike and stayed back from the group for about ten minutes and tried to take this all in. I don't think I've ever been in a place where there is absolutely NOTHING in any direction on the horizon.


It was really something. Biking through the stillness of fields as far as the eye can see breeds introspection. It was the first time on the tour where I wasn't thinking about what was around me or anything cycling-related but instead was all about the things that one would expect from a "journey across America." I.e. What I'm going to do when this ride is over?/What the hell was college about?/What do I see myself doing in the next five years?/What makes me happy?/Who do I want to share it all with? Eww gross. After I got that out of the way, I listened to two days worth of podcasts, M83, Bombay Bicycle Club, Phoenix, and the Beatles. Marc Maron's interview w/Obama is pretty rad you should check it out.

Newton, Kansas was rad. They have a rad bike shop with a hostel. And in that hostel I took a book about four early-twenty somethings who cycled around the world in the early 80s. One of the riders goes into some pretty serious detail about biking along the Gaza Strip, through the deserts of Egypt and Sudan, and through the widespread poverty of India and Nepal. Reading all this has made me extremely thankful at how relatively easy it is to bike across America. Every twenty miles or so along our route, I know that we can find some source of clean water and a place where we can set up our tents. We've rode for over 2,000 miles and I have not felt in danger at all. Granted, that statement is loaded with the flip side in that there are definitely, absolutely places in America that are not safe and are not prosperous for all. Granted, I am a white male. I am constantly reminded out here at how lucky I am to have the financial and spiritual freedom to be able to ride my bike every day for three months.

It feels weird sometimes (especially biking through Eastern Kentucky) to ride through a place in such a quick amount of time- to be almost like a ghost taking snapshots of other people's lives. It's odd being in a restaurant in the middle of Missouri while a group a tired-looking farmers sit down for lunch to take a break from a hard morning of trying to salvage their crops from the Mississippi River flooding. It's confusing to have older people come up to you, ask about your trip, and then look at you with sullen eyes and say, "Man, I wish I did something like that when I was younger." Because while the easy answer may be to want to jump up and down, shake the person and say, "Well, fuck! Then go do it now! There's still time! Fucking do it!", the financial and spiritual realities for so many people are not cured by a smile and an adventurous attitude.

Anyways, still meeting some amazing people on the trail. Biked for a few days with a group of Harvard peeps who are teaching/biking across the country. Way cool. I'm already thinking about next summer and some possibilities for a tour. I definitely want to ride my next trip for a cause of some kind other than "cause I wanna!" Definitely wanna get more into the bike community in Boston and start doing some races. I miss some key people in my life and wish I could share this experience with them. Mom, dad- love you. Gonna do a better job of calling you when I'm not tired as dick.

My beard game is getting semi-strong. Leggo, Rockies.

Hearts,
Kody

                                     

                                     

Da Rockies. Can't wait to bike through you