The end

10/10/17 - 10/17/17

After spending the night by the side of the road I was ready to get to a friend’s. A horrible breakfast at the waffle house fueled me for my ride to Bryn Mawr the next day. I was supposed to ride on route 40 for 19 miles then turn off onto other nice back roads. However, I overestimated how far 19 miles was and ended up missing my turn and going 10 miles too far down the six lane highway. Lucky for me the back roads ran more or less parallel so I was able to reroute and felt pretty good because I’d gone halfway without noticing. The rest of the ride was made up of turns onto different back roads every quarter mile or so, but I somehow made it to my friend Christine’s college without getting too lost.

I felt a little out of place staying on the all-women campus for two nights but I had a good time. We ate lots of food, as always, toured the gorgeous campus and hung around with friends. I got to see a little bit of town and a neighboring school. It was nice to reminisce about home and talk about what our classmates are up to now. Unfortunately I'm super un-photogenic so we managed to take an awful picture but it's all I got so I'm including it.

I left not knowing where I was headed that night. I stopped at a cafe to use the internet and was able to connect with a WarmShowers host about 70 miles away. It was farther than I had planned to go but it

worked. The only issue was that by now it was 11:00 am and that left me seven hours before dark. Normally, cycling 70 miles in seven hours is easy but there was a 12 mph headwind. I flew out of the coffee shop realizing I was going to have to really push to get to the host home by dark. Luckily Christine had packed me a bagel so I could save time not having to stop and make lunch. I rode into the awful wind all day forcing myself forward, slowly, even on the downhill. It is extremely disheartening to tire yourself out and need a break after a long ride down a big hill. It was exhausting but I didn’t take breaks because there was no time. Christine’s bagel was a blessing and I was able to keep pushing forward after a five minute lunch stop. It was not a fun day of riding, one of my worst I’d say.

I finally got to the address from the app and was overjoyed and relieved that I made it in time. After introductions I got a hot shower and found that my whole body was shaking with exhaustion and hunger. It was great to have a warm bed and meal but I probably should’ve taken better care of myself during the ride. The hosts were super nice and after our delicious pasta dinner I was treated to a brief piano recital. The father had once toured on a triple tandem bicycle with his two sons. It was nice to swap stories and briefly glimpse into someone else's life. I had a great time and slept like a rock that night.

The next morning I rode on to New York City. I was given three bagels, which was very exciting because I hadn’t really eaten bagels the whole trip. Four bagels in 24 hours, yum. Normally as I ride I stop, look at my route, memorize part of the route and then stop and look again when I reach the end of the section I memorized. However, headed to NYC I had a crazy number of turns, where I was on each road a quarter mile or less before turning. This meant a constant need to stop and check the map, which was a pain. I plugged in one earbud and let the voice of google maps guide me through the complex route. This was the first time I’d actually used the voice

directions and it worked surprisingly efficiently. I was able to just keep riding without worry of missing a turn or getting lost. Plus I felt like a secret agent. The roads grew unpleasantly busy as I neared the crowded city but it was nice not having to stop on sketchily small shoulder’s to find my next turn. I got yelled and honked at a decent amount although I feel google maps should take some of the blame for the not so bicycle friendly bridges and highways they put me on.

I reached Jersey City and bought a ferry ticket to NYC. Once there I rode a nice bikeway from the bottom of the island up to 60th street. It was definitely odd being in such a large city with so many people. I managed to maneuver my clunky bike through the city until I reached Fordham University. There I met Margaret, a friend from home, and brought my bike up to her apartment. We caught up, went out for ramen, watched a play and then sat around stacking condoms. It was a short but fun visit and gave me a chance to connect with the Jewish friends I left behind in MN. Also one of the actors from “Orange is the new black” was at the performance we went to see, but I have yet to find a fan of the TV show to impress with this.

I rode out of NYC and was surprised with how safe I felt. I thought the city would be the worst, crowded, nerve-wracking ride I’d done yet but it was surprisingly pleasant. There were a lot of stoplights so it was a little slow but the nice bike lanes and seemingly nonexistent traffic laws for cyclists made it a comfortable, unhurried ride. I got out of the city, stopped for a massive pizza snack and pushed on through another cold windy day. I enjoyed some more of Google's bike routes (right) but overall it was a decent ride.

I was headed towards a WarmShowers host home, but the host still wasn’t sure if it would work that night. About 15 miles away, he got back to me to let me know it wouldn’t work out. I did some research and found a state park a little ways away. I planned to stealth camp in it worst case scenario but before that I wanted to try finding a backyard to stay in. I planned to stop in a neighborhood and ask friendly looking dog walkers if they would let me camp on their lawn. As I was riding I didn’t really see many people out so I switched tactics to target other cyclists. The first couple I asked pointed me towards a YMCA. When I called they were very confused why anyone would have told me I could camp at the Y. Next I saw a large group of bikers in a parking lot and figured, as it was nearing dark, they likely were finishing a ride and at least one of them would live nearby and offer space. Turns out they were congregating at a train station to head back into NYC so that wasn’t an option. Three of them were super psyched about my trip, though, so we took a bunch of pictures and chatted for a second.

The biker guys

They wanted a picture with my "rig"

My attempt at a selfie

I left quickly because I wanted to reach the park by dark, having given up on the generosity of strangers. The park closed at dusk so I made my pesto by the side of the road (below) while all the park workers streamed out of it. Then once it was solidly night (only like 6:30 pm) I glided into the park. I stopped at the restroom then headed towards the beach to see if I could find an outdoor shower. There were some lights on but I couldn’t tell if they were in the park or out on the water on the other side of it. When I saw the distinct pattern of an approaching car’s headlights, though, I realized the lights were definitely coming from within the park. I threw my bike over the barrier next to the road and sprinted to get behind a big tree. At that point I realized everything on my bike is reflective and there is no way a car could miss me so I dumped my bike in the grass as concealed as I could and tried to lay down behind the tree. Suddenly I squirmed upright, I’d sat on something super

sharp. I felt around and picked up, what I swore was, a piece of a porcupine or hedgehog hide. I knew predators would scoop porcupines out of their sharp skin when they were in trees so the quilled object with the slightly furry inner texture under the tree seemed a gruesome possibility. I sat back down, through the pain and waited as the car stopped, parked, then a couple minutes later turned around and went back the way it had come. As soon as it left I bolted for more dense tree cover. I looked ridiculous sprinting with my heavy bike across the bumpy grass, panniers flying everywhere. I made it to some dark trees only to find another road just on the other side of them and a vehicle already headed down it. I took off again across the field moving as fast as I could.

I found a massive pine and decided to camp under that. I started to set up my tent but cars kept going up and down roads near by, parking for a bit then returning the way they came. I was pretty sketched out and had to set up my camp without a light. It was tricky but luckily I’ve set up that tent enough that I was able to pull my stuff together and get everything tucked away inside. Once I had camp properly arranged I grabbed some soap, dirty dishes,a water bottle, clothes and a towel and headed out on foot to try and find a shower, or any water source really. I figured I would stand a chance sneaking around without the clunky bike. I got about halfway to the beach, giving the lit section of the park a wide berth, when I turned and saw another car sitting right behind me by the park entrance. By the time I noticed it I was standing in the middle of a field very much visible. I immediately took off crouching and waddling back to camp. There was just too much activity so, defeated, I resigned myself to a waterless night. Pathetic. It was a long and paranoid night but I, once again, survived fine and made it to morning with no issues.

An early start from my stealth site had me on the road just after dawn. I stopped at the only place I thought was around and got a small breakfast. I left in the rain and quickly came around a corner to realize that there was a whole strip mall. I dipped back out of the rain into a Dunkin Donuts and finally got a donut. I had been passing an uncountable number of DD’s all trip and every time I went by one I debated stopping but never did. I sat there drinking the most watery hot chocolate ever, eating delicious pastries and waiting for the rain to stop.

At this point the host, that hadn’t worked out the night before, texted me asking to take me to breakfast. As I hadn’t eaten much I readily agreed and ventured back into the rain to meet him at a diner (above). We chatted for awhile and he told me about his cycle tour across the country as a teen. He said that every night he and his two friends would ring a doorbell and ask to spend the night on someone’s lawn. They rarely got rejected and often were given a room and meals. I wished it wasn’t so late into my trip because I could’ve used that technique a lot. We finished our meal and conversation and then took a photo before splitting ways. As I rode I couldn’t stop thinking about how awesome it would be to just ask strangers for a free place to sleep each night.

I rode on to Yale, stopping at the beach briefly but then hitting the city. There I stayed with Conserve School friend Lucy. She showed me around a bit, we got a gigantic pizza and did some laundry. It’s been weird experiencing so many different campuses and seeing so many people from different times in my life. It's given me a chance to reconnect with different times in my past. I feel like I'm stepping back into the times when I had those people around. So, it was really good to see Lucy again.

The next morning I took off headed as far as I could towards Boston before sunset. My back pannier rack broke but luckily I was able to switch the two back panniers and there was essentially no issue. I ran into some trouble when google maps mistook my location vertically and accidentally (although, by now I’m not sure it’s accidental) routed me onto an underground freeway entrance. I was super pissed because it trapped me between racing traffic and I had to wait forever to cross entrance and exit ramps. I was forced to ride back around the city to where I’d come from as I tried desperately to exit. It was terrifying and I swore a lot but I was eventually able to get off the death trap and start my ride across the city, again, regaining ground.

I hoped to make it 84 miles for my last night in a state park. I unfortunately didn’t. At a pit stop I realized I only had an hour of light left and had gone a little over 60 miles. This was unacceptable as I at least had to make it 72 miles to be halfway to Boston. I bought a soda and an ice cream treat, gulped them down, then took off. Nine of my fastest miles later, I arrived in the small town of Willimantic out of breath and panting. I realized I should give up for the day because sunset was in 20 minutes. A construction worker who stopped to chat with me told me that I was in the heroin capital of Connecticut and under no circumstances should I try and camp in or around town. He pointed me up the hill to the college. There I searched for a campus police to ask about shelter for the night, as the construction worker recommended, but I was unable to find any or the public safety center. With minutes before dark, I raced into an adjacent neighborhood and rang the doorbell of a nice looking house with a high fence around the backyard. No answer. A slightly less nice house around the corner yielded similar results. The third door opened and after I hurriedly explained my situation through the screen door I was invited to stay in the loft above the garage. I couldn’t believe my luck! I showered, made pesto on the patio and got ready for bed. The owners of the home (whose names I unfortunately do not remember) gave me some fruit and water and said goodnight. I went to bed as early as I could, grateful that the world is filled with great kind hearted people.

The next day I packed up and got out on the road early. I had couple big climbs and wanted to make sure I got to Olin College in the Boston area on time. Before I left I stopped at a diner and got the largest breakfast I'd gotten the whole trip. It was the first one I couldn’t finish, so I packed up the remaining half of the Frisbee-sized pancake, sausage and potatoes. I rode out and kept up a good pace throughout the morning until I finally got over the first long gradual climb. After the next two smaller heights I was ready to hit the last tallest hill. I stopped to finish my breakfast and pick up Burger King’s Oreo shake, which I had discovered, on my first cycle tour, is incredible. Then I trucked up the hill. It was long and tedious but I was able to muscle my way over as my brain screamed at me for packing so much. As I came down the other side I shifted into a higher gear and heard a snap. My back derailleur cable had frayed through.

​​This was a major issue. I described the climbs because it was so lucky that nothing went wrong before them, otherwise they would've been walks. So that’s good, but I still had one more to go. My bike is 27 speeds but without tension from the cable the back derailleur springs into top gear. By adjusting the limit screws I shifted it into the second highest gear. So I could now use gears 8, 17 and 26 but only those. It was easy to take the down hill but now I had two relatively high gears and one decently low one. So I would either have to push super hard up hills or pedal frantically to slowly climb them. On top of this I normally rarely use my front shifter keeping it on high gear and adjusting the back shifter only. So I would instinctively adjust my back shifter, expect the normal jolt and difference in ease of pedaling. Instead I would tense waiting for the change then have to scramble to adjust the the front shifter. It was annoying and I lost a lot of the momentum I needed to push up hills with my limited gear combinations. I also discovered the front derailleur doesn’t shift easily and I'd often get stuck in one gear. Anyway, the point is I could keep riding but it was a lot more challenging and took much longer.

I still can’t believe how lucky I was getting over those hills before I lost the use of my back derailleur. The rest of the ride, minus that one last punishing climb, was downhill or pretty flat. I enjoyed playing with my useless back derailleur shifter because I had become conditioned to associate a change in pedaling with the muscle memory of shifting and every time I shifted I’d feel the corresponding response in my body. Except nothing on the bicycle would change and so I’d get a mental shock as my muscle memory failed me. It was great fun. Luckily, I had been a bit early so I managed to stay on schedule and was soon pedaling through Wellesley. By this point though (the last couple miles) I was thoroughly exhausted and starving. I was about to stop at a gas station to refuel until I realized how pathetic that was one mile from the end of my adventure. I pushed on until I was biking through Babson's familiar campus then gliding onto the courtyard at Olin.

I made it.