The completion of my trip is officiated
by wading into the Atlantic Ocean at Popham beach, a peninsula north
of Freeport, and Portland, Maine. The last month of my bike trip has
been incredibly diverse, although the scenery was some of the least
diverse I have seen across the entire country. It was difficult to
expect from one state to the next, but the endless green foliage
became the constant and view-limiting surrounding. Beginning in
eastern Texas, I entered the long-dreaded humidity. There seems to be
an invisible line in Texas running directly through the Dallas-Fort
Worth area. To the west was the dry, hot grass lands and to the east
began a full month of unbearable humidity. Before Texas, I rode early
and late in the day to escape the heat. Once I entered Texas, I had
my first experience with 110F temperatures. This is the type of
weather where anyone exercising outdoors runs the risk of heat
stroke, so my biking schedule abruptly made a 12-hour switch. I began
riding about an hour before sunset, around 7 to 8 pm, and would ride
until 2 or 3am. From there, I would set up my tent under a tree or
truck stop awning, and sleep, eat, rest, and read until the next
night, when I would begin the night biking again. Night-riding was
not a new practice for me. While commuting to and from school and
work via bicycle during winter in Alaska, my day would begin long
before the sun rose and continue long after it set. My bike has
always been equipped with lights and reflectors, so during winter
back home and during the summer nights in Texas, I had enough
blinking red lights to be mistaken for an emergency vehicle.
Continuing into Louisiana, Arkansas, and Mississippi, I alternated
between night and day riding, getting as far as I could when I could.
It wasn't until I reached Atlanta, Georgia and began heading north
that I was able to switch back to day riding full time.
At the end of a long day in Alabama, I
met Ruth and Marco, originally from the Netherlands, and now owners
of the Route 2 Cafe in Blocton, AL. I stopped at their cafe for
dinner and began talking about bikes and traveling. After dinner,
Ruth invited me to stay on her couch for the night and the next day
Marco sent me off with several sandwiches for lunch and dinner. Marco
introduced me to a Dutch treat which is a sandwich with butter and
chocolate sprinkles. It was the tastiest snacks I've ever had and is
one of my favorites now!
I got to Atlanta a few days later and
was able to visit Caleb, a friend from college who I hadn't seen in a
couple years. It was fun to catch up and see a bit of the city. From
Atlanta, I turned northeast and immediately got sick. Up until then,
I had felt healthy and strong, but what ever stomach bug I caught
made it difficult to make any distance. I rode about 100 miles that
week as oppose to my regular 350 miles. One day when I was feeling
well enough to make a break for the next town, I made the decision to
ride about 20 miles on the side of the interstate. I made it about
ten miles before I was pulled over by a cop car, given a written
warning, and kicked off onto the winding, unnavigable back roads.
South Carolina's road planning leaves a lot to be desired. I
eventually made it to where I was heading, checked into a motel, and
slept and drank tea for the next three days. I finally recovered
enough to get back on the bike. I had planned on meeting my dad in
Washington DC on the 1st of September, but by the first, I
only made it as far as Petersburg, Virginia. My dad rented a car and
drove three hours south to pick me up. It was nice to get a ride and
see some of the greenery go by a bit faster.
I spent four days in Washington DC with
my dad wandering around the Smithsonian museums and memorials. I saw
the White House, the Bill of Rights, the Constitution, and the
Declaration of Independence. They were pretty cool pieces of US
history to see. From Washing DC, Dad flew home and I hopped on a
greyhound bus and rode to Worcester, Massachusetts. I had a one hour
layover in Manhattan, so I did get a glimpse of the lights of New
York at midnight. I would like to go back some day and do a bit of
exploring. From Worcester, I rode to Nottingham, New Hampshire to
visit Brandon, another friend from school, and his wife Meredith and
their adorable kids. It was a two day ride from Worcester to
Nottingham, and half way there I managed to find myself, for the
third time since reaching the east coast, explaining myself to a
police officer. I woke at 4am with a flashlight in my face and high
beam cruiser lights silhouetting a police officer against the wall of
my tent. Considering he got a three-second string of profanities
screeching out of a tent in the backwoods of Massachusetts in the
middle of the night, I'm not sure who got the bigger scare. He was
just checking on me to see what I was doing there, but even after he
left I couldn't get back to sleep. I got up and started biking a few
hours later and was to Nottingham several hours earlier than
expected. I stayed a couple nights in Nottingham, then was on my way
with a parting gift from Brandon of a bottle of home brew hard cider.
All set for the final leg of my trip.
I reached Portland, Maine shortly
before noon on September 11, 2012, five months after starting out
with my friend Molly from my sister Kari's back yard in Portland,
Oregon. It seems so long ago, but somehow very recent. Traveling with
the same bicycle, same tent and equipment, and even some of the same
books has, in a way, frozen time. Maine looks similar to Oregon, and
it is almost easy to forget how much distance is really between the
two Portlands. I plan on riding along the coast back to
Massachusetts, where I will visit one more friend, then fly out of
Boston back to Alaska for the winter. I have a few ideas for the next
trip, so over the next several months I will arrange and plan the
details for the next leg of life.
