Tour of Two Forest double century

A day on a bicycle, exploring, at slow, antagonizing low speeds and exhilarating high speeds, is a day well spent. My recent interest in double centuries has awarded me the possibility of spending Saturdays exploring some of the most beautiful parts of the world, by bicycle of course. This past Saturday I rode 200 miles on the Tour of Two Forests Double Century organized by Planet Ultra.

At 430am, after a couple hours of so-called sleep, my friend Matt Pro and I are mummy-like as we organize our stuff in his Hollywood apartment and prepare for our drive to Santa Clarita for the 615am start. Our excitement is only slightly concealed by our sleepiness. But, what may have been concealed was our better judgment. We decided to not fix the slow-leak in his tube and not to bring warmer clothes.

Honestly, the morning was unremarkable. Some cold weather, a little mist, good conversation pertaining to California history, and the usual rural landmarks kept our brains functioning through mid-morning. Then Matt’s tube started to act up. Slow leaks are tricky because part of you says, ‘Don’t waste time fixing it, just keep pumping it up every hour!’ When your tube is low on pressure it takes significantly more energy to keep the same pace. Not fun! It ends up that a patched rip in his tire was putting tiny holes in his tube. In the end he had changed or patched the tube 4 times before scoring a new tire.

The two forests we traveled through were the Los Padres and The Angeles National Parks. Stunning. I have traveled a decent amount in my life, but I have to say that California has some of the most beautiful scenery in the world. In one day you can travel along beaches, through mountains and across deserts, and numerous types of each! With National Parks comes mountains, and with mountains comes climbs. Mid-day, temperature in the 90’s and we are struggling up some big ones. Not steep, but long. ‘Hey, look way up there! Is that the pass? Didn’t that car pass us 20 minutes ago?’

Part of the ride went through sections of forest that were nearly destroyed by the fires in 2003. Here we are, cruising along as the sun is going down, about 140 miles behind us, through the remains of a fire. Trees still standing though they more resemble silhouettes. Shrubs still holding strong, despite being blackened to a crisp, blowing in the wind. Only the occasional dog that chases us breaks the unnatural silence.

The last fifty miles were ridden under the stars, guided by our headlights. The organizers were gracious enough to give us a fifteen-mile downhill. My front brakes were not working (I will not get into the details!), as we descended at twenty-five miles per hour through repetitive twists and turns. Each series of turns seemed to mimic the previous one until finally the mountain opened up and we descended into the town of Santa Clarita.

Nearly seventeen hours had passed when we returned to the start point across from Magic Mountain. In these seventeen hours I experience not only vast temperature changes and sceneries, but also an array of emotions. Pedaling becomes so routine that it is meditative. My mind jumps from joy to sadness in a matter of miles. Old memories suddenly leap to the front of my mind. I consider old and new ideas. Suddenly I realize I have ridden ten miles and cannot remember a single thing I thought about. Was my mind blank for nearly forty-five minutes?

Tonight (Friday) Matt and I are traveling up to Davis to do the Knoxville Double on Saturday. If I finish, despite this lingering cold that has cost me three days of work, I will be eligible for the California Triple Crown. (caltriplecrown.com). Hopefully my cold and cough dissipate in the next twelve hours. This route has less climbing than others at 11,000 feet (compared to 15,000 and 13,000) and claims wonderful scenery. It will be a fantastic way to spend my twenty-sixth birthday.

Uh! Ah! Chavez no se va!

Hugo Chavez, the leftist president of Venezuela, won the referendum here on Sunday with 58% of the vote. We spent the day hanging out in Caracas watching the long, long lines (most people spent 5 to 8 hours waiting to vote) in an awesome neighborhood called Sabana Grande. People had to vote either Si or No for the referendum pushed by the right wing opposition groups. A vote for ´No´ is a vote for Chavez and the continuation of his presidency. After the polls closed at midnight we left the 'No' camp we had been hanging out with, who had just sung Happy Birthday to Colleen, and took a cab to the presidential palace.

The situation there was AMAZING. Thousands and thousands of people in the streets, hanging off of trucks and from balconies, chanting and screaming and dancing. We milled around for about 3 hours till our group split up with 3 going back to our hotel and Colleen and I staying behind. We watched some of the bands perform and followed the news on the big screen TV while munching on popcorn. Keep in mind that at this point it is about 4am and the streets have not emptied. Old people and children alike passed the time singing, dancing, and eating. When the report came out that Chavez won the place erupted. It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever witnessed. People hugged us and I could see tears in people's eyes. It was strange to be at a political event where the side we are pulling for actually wins. And even odder that it is the state we are cheering for! Chavez has been a thorn to the US since he was first elected in 1998 by de-privatizing the oil industry and pouring money into social programs for the country's poorest people. When the rightwing attempted a coup a couple of years ago the US recognized it immediately, though they continue to not fully recognize Chavez who has been democratically elected 3 times.

After the announcement of the win the soldiers opened the gate to the presidential palace and the crowd swormed in. I look up and we ended up directly under the president's balcony. After about 5 minutes of anticipation Chavez opened the doors and appeared on the balcony. Everyone went absolutely nuts. The chant of the pro-Chavez groups, 'Uh! Ah! Chavez no se va!' (which translates as Chavez wont go) was deafeningly loud. We stood and listened to his speech with the supporters even as rain started coming down around 5am. He mentioned the significance of the election of other left leaning presidents in Latin America and then said, 'Fuera Bush de la casa blanca' (Out Bush from the white house). Everyone around us looked at us and when we repeated it everyone cheered. Eventually we pushed through the crowd and avoided the kids on motorcycles and hailed a cab back to the hotel. This night was one of the most exciting moments of my life! Venezuela will forever be in my mind and I feel that much closer to what happens here. I am sure I will be back soon.

Caracas, Venezuela sin bici

We arrived in Caracas safely on Monday afternoon and found a cheap hotel in the University area. We ate at a rad veggie restaurant and then chilled in the center area and drank and ate this fruit ice cream stuff. Apparently the area we stayed in there is not the safest. 3 of th 5 peeps I am with went out that night and met up with some random kids. One of them got a gunned pulled on them and then they said they absolutely had to take a cab back to the hotel cause it was unsafe to walk after dark.

On Tuesday we took a RAD bus ride over the mountains to an amazing beach town. Today we chilled out on the beach most the day eating fried plantains and drinking coconut water. It is picture perfect, clear water, palm trees, and mountains in the background. Tomorrow we are taking a boat to some exclusive beach and Friday doing a trip in the mountains.

Sunday we are returning for the elections because we met some cool peeps from the Chavez camp who are going to take us around. It may be crazy there, I will try to update before then. Super rushed right now!

Mt Tam double century

200 miles in one day. It's a goal I set for myself way back when I first started doing long rides in Fall of 2000. It was at my first organized ride ever, the Santa Monica mountains century earlier this summer, where I learned about the existence of organized 200 miles rides called double centuries. It's called the California Triple Crown, a series of double centuries all over the state. I checked the website the night after that ride and was hooked.

Saturday morning I woke up at 245am, drank some coffee, ate what food I could, and hopped in my rental car. The extra $5/day for the CD player was so worth it. Public Enemy and Gangstarr kept my energy level up on the one-hour drive to the start of the ride in Merin County. I downed a quart of silk latte. The start of the ride was at an elementary school and the place was buzzing. At least 125 people on bikes plus organizers and supporters. I stand in line surrounded by geared up roadies; slightly intimidated by all of the people for whom this is normal. I get my number and am on my way back to the car to unload my bike. Is this it?

I had just finished putting on sunblock (still dark out) and sorting out my lights when the start begins. I hop on my bike and take off with the main group. After a couple of miles we are split up by a small climb. A fast group takes off in the front and I am still with the main group. At one point we are flying downhill on a road with full tree cover. At about 30 miles an hour all I can see is the spot of light in front of me from my light and dozens of blinking red lights. Amazing! If I am doing anything at 530am I would want it to be this.

At the first pit stop, at mile 22 or so, I look at my computer and my average speed is 18 MPH. This is damn fast for me, my 'fast' training rides were at about this speed, but for only 25-30 miles. I have 178 left. I decide to not pace with the main group. Here we also drop our lights and warm clothes in marked paper bags. The organizers kindly shuttle this stuff ahead to the second to last stop, where we will be needing them again for nightfall.

The first big climb of the day was up the infamous Mt. Tamalpais. 2500 feet to the top where we check-in, turn around and descend. Astounding views of San Francisco, the ocean, and the mountain ranges from our position above the fog line. During the descent, and some time after, we hit fog and cold weather. Damn the crazy bay area weather! Eventually I will be sweating in 90 plus heat, but at this time, around mile 50, I am almost shivering. Like I have said before, when you spend hours and hours on a bike, outside, you truly experience every change in the environment.

Around mile 80 I ended up chatting with two women in their forties. Turns out they have both ridden many tough centuries and other hard rides. We formed a pace line and chatted away. They were so impressed that this was my first double and only my second organized ride! Eventually we caught another group and about 8 of us paced together. Riding at about 21-22 MPH on flat we picked up some miles quickly. I held my own at the front for many of them, but our group split up at the next big climb.

These organized rides are ‘supported’, meaning that food, drinks, minor mechanics, and first aid is available at a number of pit stops along the way. My problem is that I hang out there too long eating and drinking! Vegan food is abound usually in the form of pb/jelly sandwiches, clif bars, fruit, bagels, fig newtons, Gatorade, granola bars and hammer gel (yum!). The lunch pit stop was stocked with veggie burritos and one of the last ones had figs, one of my new favorite fruits.

I spent a lot of midday on my own. This included a ridiculously steep climb at mile 130. It was one of those climbs, in the open sun, where you have trouble turning your pedals over in the easiest gear. I was standing for a lot of it. My legs are aching, as is my lower back, and I am regretting my early morning pace. ‘Why the hell am I doing this?’ I hate riding uphill. I much prefer riding downhill and/or with tailwinds! If there was ever a lazy person who did a double century it is me. At the next stop I realize we are on the same course as the metric double century (125 miles) riders and I try not to turn my nose up to those doing fewer miles.

Around mile 150 I am feeling sluggish in even keeping a fast pace on flat. I am seeing fewer and fewer riders and my motivation is low. My mind is searching for something new to think about! I force myself not to stare at my computer and calculate my pace, miles to go, etc. Around 175 I meet up with a guy I had talked to briefly earlier and we start riding together. Not pacing, simply riding side by side. It turns out that it is his first double, but he just ran the SF marathon the previous weekend! We end up riding together the rest of the day (and into the night!).

At the mile 186 stop we meet the guy responsible for the course. He is ecstatic that this is our first double and tells us that we will be hooked. Yeah too late my friend. It’s great when someone involved in an inherently exclusive hobby is not exclusive to who does it and actively encourages others to participate. After that we had one last climb before a descent and some flat to the 200 mile mark. But, as always, I was having gear problems. My light was going in and out and my friend’s battery died. We had my back-up commuter light, but in the pitch blackness it was little help on the descent. Luckily someone with two LED lights caught us and led the way to the end point. 200 miles in 16 hours and 42 minutes. I was shooting for 15, but what are you going to do? I finished within the cut-off time of 17, so I was happy.

Signed up for a double century, wtf?

About 6 weeks ago I committed to doing a double century (200 miles in one day, under 17 hours) on August 7th in Marin County (across the golden gate bridge from SF). I trained as much as someone like me could train. I had a hill day, an interval day, and a long day each week. My new riding buddy, Matt Pro, and I did Los Angeles to San Diego in one day- about 165 miles- two weeks ago. I feel good, but I don’t have a lot to compare it to.

Anyway, I flew up to Northern California on Tuesday for a conference for work on Wed/Thur. Which, in itself, was a fun time. Oh wait! My 10-year streak of not paying for taking my bike on a plane was broken! I was lazy and didn’t measure my boxes and got called out. She actually measured my boxes! One 7 inches over and the other 4 (length plus height plus width). I was able to talk my way into just paying for one oversized box; $45. Much better than the $80 for bike or $90 for two over-sized boxes. I really cannot complain since I didn’t have to pay for my flight.

All week I have been back and forth between Sacramento and Davis. Davis is amazing! I have eaten at least a dozen and a half figs STRAIGHT OFF THE TREE. My friends Tim Radak and Temra Costra are urban scavengers (and wonderful hosts!). Amazing. And last night I went to a bar because Tim's housemate's boyfriend was performing with someone else named Ben as 'The Benjamins'. In dramatic fashion I am waiting in line for some food and this kid with a beard and dreads asks me if my name is Matt. I say yes and he responds. 'Yo its Ben Lewis! From high school!'. Yeah. A friend from high school I haven’t talked to in 7 years. He lives in Davis and was the other Ben in 'The Benjamins'. And, randomly enough, his older sister was in town visiting from Monterrey. She made reference to me at her prom. Crazy!

Now it is 1015pm. I have to be up in 4.5 hours to drive to the start of the ride one hour away. Check-in is at 430am. I am super nervous. Can I climb 15,000 feet in one day? Will I be able to finish in 17 hours? Will my bike hold up? My knees? I am unsure what to expect. I just made a mixed CD for the rental car ride and am staring at my bike all ready to go. We'll see what happens. I will post as soon as I get back to Davis. The car ride back here might be rough, but that's what coffee is for. Good night.

The hike of bike to hike San Gorgonio

The night at approx 8000ft was chilly, but I slept well in my zero degree bag. I slept well, that is, until the pack of boy scouts came tramping in super loud around 12am. These little brats decided to set-up camp practically on top of my tent. I was still up early; I wanted to summit and get back down and be on my bike back to the train before dark.

I got packed up and was on the trail before the OC guys. The weight of my pack was wearing on me and I was starting to feel the altitude. It was not affecting my head yet, but the thin air was making it hard to breath. Being a Saturday morning each viewpoint was (nearly) filled with day hikers and the rest of us who had camped at one of the three campsites. The sites were beautiful and the effort needed to keep climbing was extraordinary; both of which I was looking forward to. But, I really don't like hiking that much. It is so slow! On a bike you can coast or speed up with minimal effort. Not so with hiking! About 6 years ago I was talking about hiking the Appalacian Trail. Boy am I glad I am over that nonsense.

Near the top my pace is slowing considerably. I am being passed constantly. At a fork about 300 vertical feet from the summit I decide to leave my pack. My head is aching a bit and I know it is going to get worse the longer I stay up. Picking up my pace, I soon arrive at the busy summit. Maybe hiking is more about the destination than the journey? I was happy to be there and look down in every direction.

Going downhill is not much easier than going up AND it is harder on your knees. I am going slow, being passed, etc and then I took a long break at one of the viewpoints. The OC guys ask me if I am feeling okay and I respond honestly. They say I should hike with them just to be safe. It ends up they are training for a climb up Mt. Whitney, the tallest peak in California. We are chatting away about gear, etc and they tease me about my antiquated water purification method (iodine tablets). I should also mention that my feet are destroyed! Hiking in cycling socks is not a good idea. By the time I am back in LA I'll have 6 blisters, some of which are quarter size.

Meanwhile I am being challenged to stay on pace. When I am cycling it is hard to push myself to where I am uncomfortable. But I was at this point hiking down this mountain. Crazy thoughts start to go through your head about motivation. 'Why would anyone do this?' 'What the hell was I thinking?' Looking back I understand better the importance of mental preparation. When this type of situation arises I bet most people talk themselves out of things they are capable of. Amazing!

Eventually we get down to the parking lot. I am stoked that my bike is still there. I hadn’t mentioned that I had ridden my bike there. Suddenly these guys thought I was the macho one doing ridiculous feats. I laughed and told them how riding was the easy part. Then they laughed at me when I unloaded my pack and panniers, bike shoes, and a pump came out.

I cruised the 25 mile downhill at dusk and then into dark. I went back to Jen's since I missed the last train to LA, but it was probably for the better. We cooked some food and I crashed out. Next day back to LA and then back to work.....

Ride from LA to hike San Gorgonio

After two months of having a real job and working regular hours I was itching to get away. I finally was able to do the 120-mile, 11,500ft bike to hike trip I been sleepin on for about 2 years.

After the usual pack till 3am the night before routine, I left Los Angeles at about 1130am, heading east. I had put on a front rack with panniers and I strapped my hiking pack to my rear rack. Unfortunately the 70 miles from LA to Loma Linda are not very interesting. Basically flat and easy and not much to look at. When people say LA is ugly with strip malls and industry they are really talking about the suburbs east of the city that span the whole 70 miles I rode. My neighborhood in downtown is much greener and nicer! I ended up in Loma Linda at my friend Jen Heine's house in about 6.5 hours (5 hours pedaling).

When bike touring a 3-day trip requires almost the same amount of stuff as a 30 day trip! All of the bike and camp basics plus I needed my hiking pack and boots. At night we sessioned the Redlands market which was a regular event for me when I lived out there before I crashed out on her floor.

Friday I woke up early, got some coffee and started on my 20 mile, 5200 foot climb to the mountain town of Forest Falls. If you live in the so cal area please go visit the San Bernardino Mountains. Fantastic scenery! This unrelenting climb is one of the hardest I have ever done. It parallels the hardest climbs we did in Mexico two years ago. At the edge of town is the trailhead for the Vivian Creek trail to the summit of San Gorgonio mountain. A 7.2 mile hike that gains 5300 feet (up to 11,500 ft).

Why this hike? Two years ago my friends, Jen Heine (same one) and Tim Radak, and I decided to climb this in one day. I was set on riding to it then, despite my ill preparation. I read that to summit you need to leave the trailhead by 7am to make it back before dark. Realizing I would have to leave at 330am to ride there in time I decided against it. That trip was a nightmare anyway! We ended up not leaving the parking lot till 10am or so and racing up to the summit. Jen and I soon started falling behind Tim. Then we both began showing symptoms of altitude sickness: dizziness, nausea, vomiting, disorientation, suppressed analytical skills, and blurred vision. We were in bad shape! I had thrown up everything I had eaten and Jen's vision was blurry. Then she hurt her knee!

This story is so ridiculous it is almost embarrassing. It was starting to get dark, Tim was no where to be found and then I lost the map. The batteries in Jen's flashlight dies. We lose the trail. I go and look for help and cannot find the people I swore I just saw. Jen is mumbling about setting a fire so the helicopters can see us. My head is pounding from the elevation. Eventually we find the trail and I help her walk on her hurt knee. After hours of stumbling in near darkness (I had a headlamp) we make our way back to the trailhead. Where is Tim? There is a note from him that he left to go let his dog out (1 hour away) and that he would be back at midnight to see if we were still there. What time was it? 1230am. We could not believe it. By this time it is freezing out and we were not prepared for the night. We ended up making a bed of leaves in the women's bathroom and spooning all night to stay warm. Got a ride back in the morning to end our disastrous trip. So I wanted to do this climb right.

Chillin in the parking lot I unpack my panniers and load EVERYTHING into my hiking pack. I reluctantly lock up my bike to a gate and start hiking. The first mile of the trail is out of a valley and is STEEP. I am stumbling with my heavy ass pack. When was the last time I hiked with so much stuff? I could not remember. It took me 3 hours to go the 2. 5 miles to halfway camp. I set-up camp and was hanging out with a couple of guys from OC who hike often. They volunteered to hang my food with theirs, giving me the opportunity to go to sleep around 930pm. Exhausted!

Alaska/coast trip summary

Here we go with some numbers.

Time gone from LA: 75 days

Miles on bike: 2150

Miles ridden while bike touring (fully loaded with gear): 1661 (500 in Alaska in 10 days, and 1161 Vancouver to San Francisco in 19 days)

Times paid to camp/sleep: 11

Total spent on camp/sleep: $45

Oddest place camped: A pumpkin patch in Garberville, Ca

Coldest nights: Denali National Park, (single digits) and Nora/Themba's house without heat in Olympia (low 30's)

Longest consecutive time in sleeping bag: 14 hours (On the Sunday night after two days of straight rain)

Time spent on internet while away: Unfathomable

Longest time alone straight: 13 days

Longest period w/o being inside a motor vehicle: 21 days

Estimated weight of bike plus trailer plus gear and food: 100 pounds

Packages of little debbie donuts and peanut chews consumed: Unconceivable

Top 3 camp stove meals: 1. Ramen noodles with tofu, broccoli and peanut sauce 2. Rehydrated beans and rice w/ tortillas 3. Pasta with olive oil and nutritional yeast

Flat tires: 1 (seriously, only one fucking flat tire in 2100 miles!)

Broken/worn out parts: 1 chain, 1 seat bag, 1 spoke, 1 gear (broke two teeth riding at a skate park in Alaska)

Major mechanical problems: Twice my rear axle came loose and separated from the frame.

Total money spent on transporting bicycle on 4 flights: 0

Money spent on mailing things to/from myself: $55

Total sets of non-riding clothing: 1 (1 shirt, 1 pants, 1 fleece)

Number of new warrantied frames waiting for me when I returned: 1 (!)

So that's it for this trip. Send me an email, leave a comment. Peace for now, see you in real life.
Matt

Portland, OR to San Francisco, CA

It seems now, after this trip, that 'bike touring' has become more about the traveling then the traveling by bike. Seeing this part of the world was my priority, I just happen to do it by bicycle to add to the experience. And what an experience it has been; probably one of the most spectacularly scenic trips I have ever taken.

Getting to the coast from Portland was uneventful, but immediately the beauty of the Oregon coast was obvious. Coming from the east coast and living in so cal my idea of 'ocean views' involves boardwalks, sunbathers and surfers. Not in Oregon. Huge rocks line the coast where angry waves crash against what can hardly be described of as a beach. The road I was following rolled right along this coast most of the time, occasionally drawing inland, but soon retracting back to the coastal views and the undulating hills.

Traveling in the fall has definite advantages; the first and most obvious being decreased traffic. Campsites were at maybe 10% occupancy. An occasional RV passed me (but almost always too closely). 'Vista points' were deserted. The drawback was the short days (dark by 430-5pm) and the cold, sometimes rainy weather. I knew what to expect and was preparing myself for the rain. It's not the riding in the rain, it is the camping that is difficult. Previously, when it rained I was paranoid about any water in my tent or if any of my stuff was wet. Those days have been long gone since I have spent DAYS in the rain. Like when you set up your tent and there is already a puddle inside from packing it wet that morning. It is absolutely impossible to keep things dry. My (expensive) rain gear worked fantastic, but when you have to put it a garbage bag in your tent when you wake up and put it on the inside is wet; there is no way to avoid it. Sometimes you cannot find a covered place to cook dinner, so there you are, in a downpour, firing up your stove and measuring out rice. I left Portland on a Monday morning and it didn't rain hard until that Friday night, but it rained through the weekend and into the following Monday. News of a coming storm persisted through all of last week, but thankfully never came. It was not until the end of that week that all my stuff finally dried!



Another change about this trip was my use of state campgrounds. The Oregon and Cali coast are covered in state parks that offer hiker/biker tent sites for $2-4! This includes picnic table, water, restrooms, shower and (most importantly) a flat, level place to put your tent. If you are familiar with my previous trips I never paid to camp. 3300 miles cross country without spending a dime! Also it was worth the ambiance of the sites. I camped in forests 1/4 mile from the beach and in redwood groves. And of course I was the only person in that area. It added to the beauty of an already fantastic trip.

And this is the part I have the most trouble describing in here. How can I convey the beauty of riding through a forest of the largest trees in the world? Or riding on a narrow road 200 feet above the edge of the continent? In a car you see it as you pass by, on a bike it absorbs you for hours. In a car you could dose off and miss the environment it took me an entire day to ride through. So, I will leave the descriptions at that and maybe in person I can get into it more.

Meeting other travelers rules. Like the kid from Germany who confronted me at the golden gate bridge, my final destination, and said, 'Great time from Portland'. I looked at him perplexedly and he told me he saw me south of Portland and then two more times in the next 13 days while he hitchhiked down the coast. And the walking guy (who has a website, but I don't have the link). He left Florida in March and was heading to Canada. He had a trailer, the same one I had attached to my bike, but attached to his pack. He has done all the long distance trails in the USA. He was not as insane as he may seem, but was still a bit crazy. We shared our mutual disdain for RV's and the people who drive them and exchanged some stories. He told me a guy from Alaska was a couple days ahead of me! When you are bike touring it is really exciting to meet up with someone headed in the same direction.

As luck would have it, about a week later I ran into him at a small coffee shop in an extremely small town. He's 47, has lived in Alaska (the southeast) for over 40 years and had not spent anytime in the continental US. An avid cycle tourist, he took 4 months off of work, took a boat to Northern Washington and is heading down the coast and then across the southern US. We shared stories over coffee and then did 5 or so miles together before he pulled off and called it a day. He told of grizzly bears in Alaska and of the 38 miles of paved roads in his home town with one stoplight. I told him my parents were from NYC and that I hadn't slept in a tent till I was 19. So here we are, from completely different walks of life and we came together based on our mutual love of traveling by bike. As you can imagine he was extremely nervous about riding through SF and LA. He told me that he thought there were so many people in Northern Cali! The same place I went to to get away from people. I told him about how bike friendly SF is and how I can meet him in LA. We swapped info and I went on my way.

Now I am sitting in Los Angeles, it's sunny and warm, I am on a laptop eating vegan cupcakes and listening to muskabeatz. I have only been back 24 hours and already riding 60 miles a day in rural California and sleeping in a tent seems so far off. It is easy to feel like nothing has changed but I have so much to take with me from this 2.5 month trip. I will update with more quantitative info soon (like 1 flat tire in 2100 miles ridden!).

Portland Portland Portland

Yeah it rules. Both of my indulgences in life can be fully satisfied here. There is even a vegan grocery store. I am spending the day exploring some more and preparing to leave for California tomorrow. About 750 miles to San Fransisco, I am going to try to do it in 13 days in order to meet my housemates (on tour) and possibly head back to LA with them in their van. We'll see. I am stoked on this leg of the trip, it will be absolutely beautiful. I head 80 or so miles to the coast and then it is a straight shot on the 101 south. I am especially excited to ride through the redwood forest park in northern Cali.

Cell phone (no where to charge battery) use and email access may be limited. I will most definitely be checking voice mail messages, so feel free to call. I'm looking forward to being back in LA! It's funny, often on this trip the people I have stayed with have provided me with better accommodations then I have at home (own room, laptop, DSL, car). Insane. That says a lot about my life and how I have organized it.

Peace!

Olympia, WA to Portland, OR

Look at me, firing out journal updates the day after I arrive! DSL rules. Olympia = cold, Portland = not as cold. But, like the guy in the bike shop told me, 'What did you expect touring this late in the year?'. True indeed. I wasn’t expecting snow on the ground south of Olympia, thats for sure. My first day out was pretty perfect. Early start, sunny, no wind, flat, low traffic, some small roads that winded through farm communities. I put in 69 miles before doing my 'arrive in a small town' routine. It goes something like this: 1. Arrive in town, ask where the grocery store is. 2. Buy tofu, broccoli, ramen noodles (dinner), and bananas (breakfast). 3. Ask the cashier where there is a park with picnic tables. 4. Go to the park, cook dinner, set-up camp, ignore the bewilderment of passer-byers. 5. Go to sleep at some ridiculously early hour. The Thursday night town was Castle Rock and I settled in next to a monument dedicated to Harry Truman. Now if anyone ever asks what Harry Truman has done for me I can say that his monument in Castle Rock, Washington gave me a place to put my tent and sheltered me from passing cars.

My day into Portland was not quite as smooth. It started raining early in the morning; the clouds never lifted, but the rain stopped pretty soon there after. I had to decide where I was going to cross into Oregon, either on the freeway just north of Portland or on a small highway 50 miles to the north. I chose the small highway and I don't think I made the correct decision. Construction, no sidewalk, no shoulder. Shitty, to say the least. After that drama I had a straight shot on one highway the 50 miles into Portland. I've said it before: This is the type of riding people who have never bike toured imagine. 4 lane highway, very few towns, very little to look at. Just me pushing along slowly counting down the mile markers. So in two days I had both extremes of what you experience while touring. Funny. Oh, but to get into Portland I had to cross another bridge. Same circumstance. I just got behind a bus and hammered across. There was enough traffic that the car behind me really had no reason to pass.

Finally get to my friend's house and chill. We went out to see a skate video premiere and almost every road had a bike lane. This is the Portland I heard so much about. We stopped in a pizza shop and Ryan knew the kid = free vegan pizza. Loving it. By then, of course, it is raining, but we managed to ignore it and happily pedal home. It's Saturday morning, it's not raining, and I am stoked to get out and see all the bike and food related things I can do in this city that is well known for its abundance of.

After here it is a 12-day straight shot ride to San Francisco. After this weekend this hang out trip is going to quickly turn into a bike trip.

Seattle, WA to Olympia, WA

I left the land of volvo wagons with 'no war' stickers on them and headed to the magical land of crimethinc and indy rock (also known as Olympia). I left Seattle super duper early cause I know the sun is down by 5pm these days and after that it is mighty cold. In PA I switched my 0 degree sleeping bag for my 32 degree '3-season' bag and my big hiking boots for some skate shoes to save some weight/space. I am estimating that my bike and trailer weigh at least 100 pounds (compared to the summer trip with road bike and panniers and a total of about 75 pounds) so every pound makes a difference in my mind. Will I be freezing at night? Probably. I had sunny, but cold weather and my route was outside of most traffic. I did have to do a stunt of 8 miles on the interstate which is never fun, but never as bad as everyone makes it out to be.

This is the end of my second day in Olympia. Its just like I had hoped; full of local co-ops, bookstores, coffee shops, etc. I bought a new chain at a worker-owned bike shop, hopefully in time to save my cassette from being worn out. Lots of chillin with some friends who I had the pleasure of putting up in LA a couple of months ago. This trip is so different from trips of the past where I camped almost every night and saw very little of anyone I knew. This trip is mainly just to hang out, but I am riding my bike in between cities. Even when I get to Portland I will not of ridden more than 3 days in a row!

That does make it more difficult to get into the rhythm of riding though. I am looking forward to that. Also I am looking forward to the time alone. This trip has been difficult for me in some ways. I feel as though, for the first time in my life, I am not content with just being somewhere new. I need more. What is that more? I am not sure. What am I going to do when I get back to LA? I am not sure. I am almost tired of that question. I hate these times when I have to pick a direction. Wait, thats not right, I do not hate them, I am very privileged to have the opportunity to decide the direction of my life. Politics, career, bikes, travel all pull in different directions. How am I suppose to commit to any one when they are all so important? Who knows. Enough diary shit for now, just know I have a lot to think about in the next 3-4 weeks before I arrive back in LA. I leave tomorrow for the two-day ride to Portland, where I will then spend the weekend. I hear it's some sort of bike mecca. We'll see. Email me about grammatical errors, I am being lazy about spell/grammar checking.

Seattle ruled it

Some oddities as well. Seth's roommate Tyson had a friend come visit from Vermont (where they are both from). Bill from Vermont ended up really being Bill from PA who I know from back in the day. So we all hung out. Had some dumpstered delights, read every bmx magazine issue published in the last year, did critical mass, went to the anarchist bookstore (left bank books at 95 pike), and I ate the largest chocolate chip cookie I have ever seen (I had two). Not much rain, but fuck it was cold. Like 38 during the day! What’s up with that? Mad chillin was in effect, friends were so so hospitable, I can’t wait to get back when its warm and I have my bmx. But then, since they have regular summer guests, I probably won’t have my own room with a bed.

'Do you always take up so much room on the bus?'

Yes, I will admit that sometimes I am ridiculous about saving a couple of dollars. You don't have to tell me. But, what many people don't understand is that the challenge of saving those couple of dollars in fun in itself.

So there I am in Seattle, in the rain, carrying two sketchy cardboard boxes I built and taped together, walking to my bus transfer. I could barely get the boxes onto the bus and once I did I took up more than my fair share of space. Some might say I was abusing public transportation. At the airport I was dropped off pretty far from my terminal and my boxes had already begun to fall apart from dragging them ( only occasionally!). I decided to get a push cart, but they were two dollars! Insane. I tried to talk a worker into just letting me have one when he was putting them back, but he wasn’t havin it. I searched for one as best I could without wondering too far from my boxes. Finally someone let me talk them into giving theirs to me when they were done. So many people wouldn’t let me have theirs! Why is that? I got to my terminal, gave the usual lie about what was in my boxes, then proceeded to the security gates. I had put on extra layers and filled my pockets with stuff in order to lighten up my boxes and the workers at the metal detectors insisted, to the dismay of everyone behind me, that I take off layers down to my t-shirt. Finally on the plane off to PA.

Pennsylvania ruled as usual, good friends, good eats; if I only had better weather and more time.....

If I type too much about non-bike trip stuff I will feel like I am some regular online diary kid and get made fun of more than I already do. At least I am not on friendster.

Vancouver, BC to Seattle, WA

Leaving Vancouver was hard. It was Canadian thanksgiving. Punk and pro-Indigenous kids can still make a festive atmosphere on a day that celebrates less than praise worthy events. It took me an hour to say good-bye to all 12 or so kids that were in the kitchen cooking. I made some good friends in the 10 days I was there; friends I hope to return the hospitality to if they can ever get over hating LA so much.

From Vancouver to the us border is a string of smaller towns/cities that make navigating especially time consuming. One town, whose name escapes me, was predominantly Sikh and Muslim populated. Indian/Middle East grocers lined the road and the smell of curry was fresh in the air. When I eventually return to Vancouver I will be sure to spend some time here. Some steep hills, in combination with not leaving till 2pm or so, put me at the border just before dark. I was not tired at all, probably due to my new sleep schedule, and road for a couple of hours in the dark! The small amounts of traffic made me feel comfortable doing this and I was able to hammer out the 65 or so miles I needed to do in order to get to Seattle in 3 days.

The route included a lot of time in beautiful forests early on, and then also some coastal roads/paths and some back roads through farm communities. I am following a lonely planet book that gives directions/maps for the coastal ride from Vancouver to San Diego and they have picked the scenic over the direct route. Before I got to Seattle I had taken two quick ferry rides and had ridden across numerous islands in the pungent sound. When I got to Seattle I called a bmx friend of friend, Seth Holten, who hooked me up. Ride from the ferry (it had poured on me all 60 miles I had pedaled), own room in his house, ride to his work in the morning to build boxes to get my bike on the plane. love it. BMX has produced some amazing kids. Approx 200 miles ridden from Vancouver, pulling about 70 pounds of gear in my trailer. nice.

Vancouver: more eat, less ride

Today is my 10th day in Vancouver and I feel like I have done so much, yet at the same time feel that I have done so little. This is from an email I sent to someone earlier in the week--> 'I have fallen into such a routine. wake up around 11-12, eat some food, head to the library, check email, hang out at sweet cheribum (cafe, veg restaurant, Indian grocer all in one), and drink coffee and eat vegan sweets then mill around Commerical Ave (the Haight of Vancouver) till I run into someone I know. Then go to the Sikh temple for free dinner, hang out at the house afterwards doing various random things, read, discuss, etc, then go dumpster diving. In bed around 3am or so.'

It's definitely fun, but I am always thinking I should be doing something better. I guess thats the story of my life. Over the weekend we snuck into a movie and took a midnight bike ride through this huge park. Pulled an all-nighter at Kinko's helping with a zine. Oh, and on Friday there was a 'squeegee kid' protest. In Canada it is common for the poor and street kids to squeegee cars at intersections for change. In a time of increased unemployment and decreased social programs in Canada it is a way of survival. Anyway, police have been harassing the squeegee kids sometimes resorting to physical intimidation. Friday was a protest to draw attention to the situation. A bunch of us from the house cooked enough food for 75+ people and distributed to everyone in the area. It was so much fun. None of the participants in the protest would speak with the media due to the decision from the IWW squeegee council (yes, it exists) so I talked to them as a supporter. It was fun! I did 3 camera interviews and talked about the situation. I wonder if they knew I was not Canadian!?

Despite not mountain biking much, the main reason I came here, I have had a wonderful experience. Everyone at the house is so busy. There are always groups of people going off to do various things. Someone is always cooking (free) food. The dishes always get done. People are always playing music or reading. This is a house of 15 or so people, almost all of them under 21 and with very little money. It has motivated me considerably. Sure, there have been a couple shows at the house where destroyer punks came and were all drunk and obnoxious, but no one at the house is like that. I have spent individual time with almost everyone there and have learned from each of them. My stories pale in comparison to kids who have spent the last couple years of their lives traveling by train hopping, eating by dumpstering and living by squatting.

Tomorrow I am leaving for the 200-mile trip to Seattle. The route I am taking links together islands in the bay instead of just riding along the coast. I am looking forward to being on my bike again, but hopefully the weather improves. I have a lot to think about from this trip so far; the contrast between the doctor I stayed with in Alaska and the punks I am staying with in Vancouver pulls me in two opposite directions. But are they that different? At both places food was shared freely and bikes were a theme. In both places people are doing what they think is best to help the most people. I am lucky to sit in between the extreme of the two ways and have my life influenced by both.

Now I am going to go get some sweets. yum.

No, it's not a bike, it's hiking equipment

Flew into Vancouver Friday. Since I had the BOB trailer I had no choice but to put my bike in a full size bike box-way oversized-and prepare to pay the $50. I get to the ticket counter and the people in front have bikes and shell out their cash. The women says to me when it’s my turn, 'That’s a bike, right?' Just to give it a go I say 'No, camping equipment'. She should of charged for an oversized box but she didn't. Love it! Batting a 1000 for not paying for my bike on airlines. So I land in Vancouver and get grilled by immigration and customs-apparently coming to BC just to mountain bike did not seem like a valid reason. I get through and set-up outside building my bike and packing my trailer. I set off to ride the 13 kilometers to east Vancouver and the unknown house I have directions for.

I make my way to 'The house formerly known as the ALF-house' and it is the way all punk houses should be- crowded with friendly kids. My connection was weak; I had a number of a friend of a friend of a friend, but it didn't matter. I was offered food and a place to put my stuff. Love it. The house is pretty big, but I counted last night and 16 people were sleeping there. I swear not a scrap of food goes wasted from any produce store or health food store in this city. It all ends up in the kitchen. Meals for a dozen people are cooked regularly of solely free food. Canadian Chocolate soymilk is killer as are Nanaimo bars-these vegan treats found at a little gem called sweet cherubum. I ran into a friend from Portland on the street and it turns out his friends know my new friends. Today I have already run into 2 people (free coffee!) whom I have just met yesterday. It's unbelievable.

My first full day I had to check out the 'North Shore' mountain biking. It is internationally known for its style of trails. I made my way to a few bike shops for some maps and new tires then started climbing up the local mountain to hit some trails. I picked an 'intro to north shore' trail. It was getting dark and I had a big pack on, but regardless I think I would of walked down most of the trail. I way overestimated my riding ability! The stuff here is sick-tons of ladders(old trees of various length that are placed horizontly as part of the trail-they have boards of various widths nailed to them to make sort of a bridge). These vary from two ft wide and 6 inches off the ground to half a foot wide and 3 feet off the ground. The trail was filled with berms, drops and obstacles all the way down. Maybe it was extra intimidating because no one was around, but it was so hard for me to do. This week I am going to hit up some 'regular' trails and then get back to the north shore stuff. Hopefully find some locals to ride with. Most of them have full suspension bikes with 7 inches of travel and full body armor. I would love to spend a summer and learn a completely new style of riding.

Plans from here? I have to be in Seattle next Wednesday the 15th to fly to PA on the 16th. I will probably spend most of that time in Vancouver, hopefully with a weekend trip to the mountain bike park in Whistler, 175 kilometers north. My cell phone is roaming, so I am not using it. Plus I would lose tons of punk points for using it here. I told everyone that most punks in LA have cell phones and they laughed at me! Ha. I should be able to check messages, so call if you need. Lastly, I have to say that I love my friends-new and old-so much when I travel. I receive so many love filled emails and have so many wonderful interactions with people who barely know me, but offer what they can to help me in my trip. If I could only offer back half as much it would take me years! This is one of my favorite things about traveling, something everyone should experience. Peace!

Extreme Thursday

My last week in Alaska has been productive, but not in Alaska sense. A lot of time just chillin in the apartment I am staying in and A LOT of time in the library. Its been good though, time to take care of things I didn’t do before I left and things I need to do for the next leg of my trip. Still, I have gone mountain biking almost every day this week, despite poor weather. Mountain biking is amazing in the city of Anchorage due to all of the parks and cross-country ski trails. There is even a small ski mountain within the city.

Tonight we are going to an 'extreme Thursday' at a local bar after we go riding. Tomorrow I fly to Vancouver, where I have finally secured a place to stay and I have a couple of leads on places to ride but no firm contacts. I think I'll work something out. I'm not sure if my cell phone will work, but I will be able to check messages on it either way. Email as well. Really looking fwd to riding the north shore stuff down there. Peace!

10-day bike trip to Denali National Park

Well, well, 2 seasons later and 1 year older (on paper!) and I am back in the Anchorage public library typing away the details of my previous week. I left on Wednesday the 17th and was away for 10 days with my mountain bike, bob trailer and plenty of warm clothing. I spent two days riding in some light snow showers and a day (my birthday!) riding in pouring rain, and two days pedaling at 6 miles an hour into strong head winds. When I left it was officially still summer, but I have to say that I experienced summer, fall and winter within a week.

I came here with the idea that I wanted to see the state and test out doing some cold weather riding/camping. I got what I was looking for. I was only at 2000-2300 ft, but I was also within 300 or so miles of the Arctic Circle. As I rode north each night got colder. First there was ice in my water bottle, then ice in my nalgene in my tent. At my furthest point north I had my nalgene freeze SOLID inside my tent. My sleeping bag kept me warm despite the layer of ice that formed on the top where the moisture in my breath had frozen. I paid to camp twice; despite every night sleeping at an established campground. Most were state run and completely empty. One nights I woke up in time to look out of my tent and see the northern lights. Another night I had a view of Mt. Denali (the LARGEST mountain in the world, it stands at only 20,000 ft, but is 18,000 ft above the range level. Everest, for example, is 29,000 ft high, but only 11,000 ft higher than the range it is in.) from my tent door. I didn’t do any long hikes, but had ample opportunity to hike around the trails at the campsites, if I wasn't too cold. My morning off in the national park I was eating cereal with water and powdered soymilk and the liquid was freezing as I ate it-I realized it when I was chewing on ice crystals. I decided to hang out in my tent for awhile until it warmed up a little. Vegan food was difficult to find outside of Anchorage, but I was able to make due because of all the food I had brought with me (mostly dehydrated refried beans, hummous, and curry lentil soup; chocolate; almonds; ramen noodles; and tvp).

I met some interesting locals, chatted with some rangers, and hung out with some other travelers. In the national park one night a French guy in his early 30's invited me for tea in his family's RV. Him, his wife and two kids (2.5 and 4 yrs old) had rented an RV in Montréal months ago and have just ended up in Alaska. Amazing. This is after them spending a couple months in southern Africa. They shared many travel stories from Africa and together we knocked Americans for their ignorance of US foreign policy. That night I thought a lot about where I might be when I am 33; will I be traveling in an RV with a wife and kids? Will I have been to Africa and lived all over the world as they have?

The next day I left to complete my round trip to Anchorage; I layered my miles so that I could stay at different campsites then on my way North. Why the same route? I had intended on taking the Denali Hwy East for its 135 gravel miles with no towns, and then looping back to Anchorage on different hwys. But after crossing a pass on my way North (in snow) I talked to a state trooper who made me decide otherwise. "All the hunters are getting out of there because of the weather. If it snows hard no one goes back there. Bring a lot of food and do not expect to see any other people. Prepare to be snowed in for a week, plus however long it will take to ride." A bit more than I was looking for this trip.

I have other stories, but I have to keep this at a readable length. Back in Anchorage we went hiking up to Exit Glacier on the Kenai Peninsula the day after I got back. Amazing. Today (Monday the 29th) it is raining and unfortunately it is suppose to rain all week. This gives me time to prepare for my trip to the Vancouver area. Apparently it is really a hot spot for Mnt biking. Anyone know anyone there? I still haven’t worked out a place to stay or an itinerary. I'll keep this posted. Thanks to everyone who sent me a b-day message.

One last thing: Everyone should check out this webpage for amazing pictures of an amazing bicycle journey from Alaska to the tip of South America: The Road South

Leaving Anchorage

Okay. So I bought a BOB trailer (tax free- thank you Alaskan oil) and I love it. Am thinking about selling it before I leave or just taking it with me and using it. It is something I will definitely use in the future. We'll see.

I should be leaving tomorrow and heading north from Anchorage towards Denali National Park, stopping along the way at smaller state parks. From there I hope to take the 135 mile unpaved Denali Hwy East, and then circle down and back towards Anchorage. Weather will be cold with possible snow accumulation, tourists will be minimal, and scenery should be splendid. I will try to update from the road, but you never know if that is a possibility.

I've got plenty of vegan chocolate and dehydrated beans so don’t worry about my eating. ha. My time is up at the library, so this is it for this entry. I miss everyone!

Yo from Alaska!

Leaving LA was drama, of course. Despite a guaranteed delivery day the BOB trailer I was borrowing did not arrive before I left. I (actually a 'we') were up until 3am packing my bike into 2 boxes in order to skirt the $80 bike charge. It ended up working, but sometimes, when you have had that little sleep, $80 seems like a small price to pay for a couple hours extra sleep.

Anyway, I finally arrive to Anchorage and am lucky to have my friend from Loma Linda picked me up at the airport. We had to kill time to wait for my luggage to arrive on the next flight and drove out past the water planes and saw a giant male moose! After an expensive meal I settled in for my first night of this long journey in the comfort of Marc's living room.

Without a BOB trailer my options are limited: I can buy one and continue as planned or I can take the expensive buses and just backpack around. But 5 days later I am still in Anchorage! Amazingly Marc and his friends have kept me super busy' I have been mountain biking and/or hiking every single day since I have been here.

The scenery has been superb. Within 45 minutes of the city is everything from beautiful mountains and glaciers to forests and lakes. All very accessible through parks and trails. One day we rode single track up through a ski resort and then hiked to a 4150 ft summit before blasting back down on our bikes. Saturday we did some of Johnson Pass Trail, a slightly technical trail with only moderate elevation gain that passes through spectacular scenery. Some parts were wooded with huge trees keeping out direct light and others parts were full of ferns and other plants that reminded me of central America. The trail was complete with wooded bridges and waterfalls. Yesterday we went to the hippy-ish town of Girdwood and rode some trails in search of a 'mountain bike park'. We never found it but had some fun times exploring.

Later in the day we met some kids on crazy downhill bikes (they look motorcycles with 7 inches of suspension on the front and back) who gave us the heads up on some trails. Turns out one kid is from Pennsylvania and used to ride BMX. We knew a bunch of the same kids. Finally we spent some time at the public sk8 park and I had a blast flying through it on my mountain bike, though being clipped in was kind of scary.

So what’s on my agenda now? Today is the first time I have been able to think about it. I heard that the only road into Denali is closed due to snow. That is surprising because the weather in Anchorage is at a comfortable 45-60 degrees everyday. If I want to get a BOB trailer I will have to buy one; which would not be a bad investment and there is no sales tax in Alaska. My options are limited because with only two weeks or so left I don’t have much time to cover a lot of miles (especially if I am riding through snow!). I might go backpacking for a week and then spend another week in Anchorage exploring on day trips or get a trailer and head south through the Kenia peninsula where the weather is warmer. Today I am going to get some better info on Denali.

Some quick bits: Food is expensive when eating out, but very reasonable at grocery stores. I got tofutti ice cream sandwiches 2 boxes for $5! Also organic broccoli and chocolate bars (the important things) are cheap.

Anchorage is a great city with all of the resources anyone needs for a trip at good prices. The REI here has the same prices as the online store.

Anchorage also has a system of parks with bike trails running through the city.

I have been making use of my zero degree sleeping bag by sleeping with the window open in the living room. bbbrrrrrr.

My cell phone works here and is not roaming!

I will try to update with what my plans are before I leave.

Thank you everyone for all the kind emails!

Off to Alaska!

Much time and energy went into this upcoming trip. It started as going to Ecuador for 3 months to work. Slowly the career/intellectual oriented trip motivation faded and the explore/adventure part of me took over. The original plan was to fly to Alaska and bike to Los Angeles-4000 miles solo-but time/weather were not permitting.

The rough, and I do mean rough, itinerary for this trip is 3.5 weeks in Alaska with my mountain bike and a BOB trailer with all my hiking gear. I will ride to national parks throughout the state and do some overnight hiking loops back to my bike. I will probably be sleeping outside 90% of the time I am in the state. Will it be cold? The weather is starting to cool this time of year; I am sure to have some below freezing nights. I have wisely upgraded some gear for this trip including a zero degree sleeping bag and an actual sleeping pad (as opposed to the 2ft x 2ft foam pad I have used for two previous trips).

What have not changed are my preparation methods. I leave in less than 48 hours and am still waiting to get the BOB trailer in the mail. I haven’t packed yet. My seatpost is bent and the local shop doesn't have the right size. Those who know me well would not expect anything better! ha. As usual though many of my friends have come through to help me out in many ways; I am extremely lucky to have the friends I have and am looking forward to reciprocating soon.

I don't know what else to say. I am so excited to explore new terrain with a different bike and a whole different mentality. This trip is less about the destination; I have no real schedule except to get back on the plane on October 3rd. Until then it is just my bike, some hiking gear, and me.

California to Belize final thoughts

Four weeks after flying back to the states is not the best time to write this, but I kept putting it off because I did not want summer to end. Sitting at a computer at my house, where school and work have already consumed me, I look back on our trip with such amazement. Did we really camp 40 feet from the highway numerous times? Ride in the rain for hours on end? Eat over 600 tortillas? I almost cannot believe it myself. When I talk to people about it, they think about it, ask a couple questions and then its back to the usual conversations. How can I explain something so fascinating in such a short period of time? I no longer think it is possible for someone to relate to this type of trip. It is so different from backpacking, yet so different from just riding a bike.

I miss the Mexican way of life. Much more laid back, lots of people were always chillin late into the night...everyone always said hello. Simplicity satisfies such a large percentage of the world's population, but not in the USA. Especially not in California. I see people working so hard at so many things and I always ask why. Why work so hard? What are the end benefits of stressing so often? It is one thing to work hard towards something you have thought long about, but unfortunately I think most people work hard because they think they are suppose to. That success is dependent on it. I have to disagree. I have stated in my journal over and over that this trip was about the process, not the end goal. It is a metaphor for life. And I now look at everything I do from this prospective.

Off of my soapbox. I have to give props to all the people who have made this trip more enjoyable. I am not going to try to name everyone, because too many people have sent me encouraging emails, gave me advice, gave me a place to stay, drove me around before and after the trip and put up with me in general. Though, I do have to especially thank Justin for making this trip such a great experience. It probably would not of been possible without him.

For everyone else reading this I hope this glimpse into my trip has motivated you in someway. Maybe not to go on a bike trip, but to change your world for the better in some way. Quit your job. Sell your car. Explore your environment. Talk to people you usually wouldn’t. Spend hours sitting in the travel section of a bookstore. You know that thing you have wanted to do since you were a kid? Why not start now?

Tikal, Guatemala to Belize City, Belize

The English started in Tikal actually. We held a conversation with a Belizean who was currently working in Guatemala. You never want to admit that you miss speaking English, but after almost 7 weeks you understand, and appreciate, the importance of vocal communication. The road was supposed to be paved all the way to the Belizean border. You know how that goes. So after waking up at 430am, pedaling 75 miles, some on unpaved roads, and crossing another international border we ended up San Ignacio, Belize.

For me, this was it. This was the city I pictured myself riding into and 'being there'. It was it. Despite our hunger, I had to take a minute and pause at one particular intersection that held some personal importance. It was the defining moment of the trip. That point of emotion right in between laughing and crying. I rode on towards the city center and I looked down at my gloved hands on my handlebars, as I had been doing for the last 7 weeks, and it felt so dramatic. All I had done was ride my bike, but it was two worlds coming together for me. I had spent a couple of months in Belize almost two years ago, and it was then that I dreamed up this trip. This was a time for recollection. I had learned an immense amount about myself and about life in the last two years. Here I was looking at the same place, but through different eyes. I wasn’t expecting this, but I felt as though something that had been nagging me was now gone. Long-term goals are not a regular part of my life so the excitement of completing one was unexpected.

The night in San Ignacio was full of emotions. Justin was ecstatic to eat a curry dish. Both of us enjoyed the English dialogue and the props we were given by all the Belizeans hanging out. We spent hours just chillin in front of a restaurant on the main street talking with all sorts of people about all sorts of things...but not all of the emotions that Belize brought back were positive, enough so that I ended up not eating dinner.....anyway we ended up not camping at the SDA hospital like we had planned, partly cause of the weather and partly cause of the US$7 room we scored. We had to fight off people trying to get us to smoke pot, but it was worth it.

The end of the trip wouldn’t be without its complications; none of the ATMs in town would take our bankcards. We spent the last of our money on peanut butter and white bread (actually bread! not tortillas!) and headed towards the capital city of Belmopan where rumor had it a bank existed that could give us money. Along the way we stopped to soak our heads from a faucet of a local farmer who had a business proposition for us: Apparently it is lucrative to buy pick-up trucks in the USA and drive them to Belize and sell them for much more. A possible new source of income? Email me if you want in.

We spent the night 33 miles outside of Belize City at the Monkey Bay environmental reserve. In the morning we talked with a young Brit who was full of stories of her travels in Cuba, Turkey, and the Middle East. The wheels are spinning for another trip before this one is even complete. The last 30 miles went by fast as could be. We got a fist and a 'welcome to Belize' from a government worker just outside of the city that brought it into perspective. 'Welcome to Belize'. The end is here. Pictures in front of the Atlantic Ocean confirm it. The details of our last day in Belize are trivial. I went to visit some old friends, we packed our bikes up, shopped around a bit, and just plain ole chilled.

The next day, September 12th, we hitchhiked to the airport with our bikes and then skirted the $80 fee for bikes by telling them it was camping equipment. We bought our last cokes and fried plantains and boarded the plane. This time when I left Belize there was no one to wave good-bye to, which made the finality of my trip all the more extreme. We kicked back our seats, put on our headphones, and took the easy way back to the states.

Tuxtla Guiterrez, Mexico to Tikal, Guatemala

Riding my bike through Chiapas has been on my mind for almost two years. Since I first visited this part of the world I imagined riding my bike through here. Truly fascinating.

After Justin recovered (mostly) from his Montezuma's revenge we left Tuxtla for 'the climb', 4500 ft elevation gain over 50 miles. 30 of them being uphill. Imagine it this way: That is higher than 3 sears towers stacked on top of each other. Now picture a 30-mile road circling its way around to the top of the third building. That was our climb to San Cristobal de Las Casas. My props go to Justin for doing two days after shitting 13 times in 8 hours (I wonder if he wanted me to divulge that information?). In San Cristobal we were chillin in the zocalo eating churros when a kid came up to us and talked bikes. He ended up taking us to a 'hotel' that was more of a chill spot for hippies that a real hotel. There wasn’t even a sign! It was perfect for this city, its got such a cool vibe with the mix of old buildings, locals, hippie travelers, zapatoristas, and indigenous people from the surrounding villages. We had to cancel the day off here but spent most of the next morning chillin around. I got my beard shaved off for a dollar. Justin shopped around for some Zapatista dolls. Drank tamarindo juice and hung out with some other travelers. You know, the usual.

Out of San Cristobal we had some climbs and it rained for the entire day. Such stunning views. We finished the day in Ocosingo because it got to dark to make it to the Tonina ruins just outside of the city. Ocosingo was one of the cities the Zapatistas took over in their uprising on January 1st, 1994. The notoriously brutal governor was sentenced in a Zapatista trial to serve 25 years peasant labor. Of course the uprising was smashed and there is nothing there to show it ever happened; but just knowing something like that gave the town some energy.

Palenque is a ruin site in the eastern part of the state of Chiapas. It is best known for its jungle setting and close proximity of tall structures. After a long day of up and down hills Justin's bike exploded. I wont go into details, but we needed a bike shop quick. Roll into the city and they are all closed. We head to the ruins and its dark by the time we get close to the restaurant/hotel we are looking for outside the entrance to the ruins. Its late, JC's bummed on his broken bike, and then the vegetarian restaurant is closed. Both of us are bummed and grumpy sitting in the dark. Then these German girls roll up looking for the previously mentioned eatery. Justin is instantly cheered up by the female presence. I decide to apply some Mexican learned knowledge and not trust the 'closed' sign. I search back through and find the restaurant; sure enough open and filled with hippies. Perfect! We eat some curry, which is mediocre, yet amazing. We hadn’t eaten curry in almost two months so the taste was new again. yum yum. We barter for a place to stay and decide to sleep in the covered hammock section and save the $2 by sleeping on the floor. Bugs in the jungle? I guess there were some but we still slept in shorts and no shirt. In the morning we got our culture on, fixed JC's bike at a shop, bought our plane tickets, and headed south towards the Lacandon jungle.

"Whoa look an Adventist church!" It was a small village on a hillside that was fighting back the encroaching jungle. I enquired about sleeping there and they told me it was occupied and to check with the teacher of the school. We worked it out to sleep on the floor of the one room school building. This village, called Nuevo Canan, had so many kids! What was different here was that almost no adults came over to hang out with us. Just JC, me, and 15 or so kids aged 6-16. It was one of those moments on this trip that I look back on and smile. I can't even think of what to type about it that would hold your interest, but to me those memories remind me of why I took a trip like this.

In the morning we pedaled our final miles in Mexico. It was sad to leave the country we had spent so much time. We had seen more of the country than most Mexicans probably see in their entire life. Even though a border is an imaginary line we were nervous about crossing it. What would Guatemala be like? We bargained the boat-crossing fee, got our exit stamp in our passports and headed to Guatemala. Instantly different. We were merely across a river, but to us it was all new. We hung out at the bus station/immigration/store building with some guys and decided to stay the night. We found a 'hotel' that consisted of some wooden shacks behind a house and called it home for the night.

Lesson learned from Guatemala: roads that are shown on the map as 'seasonal paths' are not a good choice for bike touring. It would of been difficult on an empty mountain bike. On a fully loaded touring bike it was hell. Big ass rocks kept our speed around 4 miles per hour. We did 30 miles in 8 hours. Justin and me wanted to kill each other. 4 flats. About 2 hours of daylight left. So when the truck pulled over and offered a ride we got in. 12 miles later we got dropped off in the 'big' town and got supplies. 10 more patience-building miles and we hit pavement. It was almost dark but we had to crush to La Libertad, the next biggest town. Pavement was so fast, we hammered out the 15 miles in no time. Ate some Salvadorian food that I wont even attempt to spell, and drank some new types of juice. Guatemala is going great so far.

Tikal is the most well known ruins in Central America and right fully so. On the other hand they are expensive and filled with tourists. We paid $8 to get in and $6 to sleep in a hammock. We talked with some Swiss girls and the plan was set to wake up at 430am. Yeah, apparently the thing to do is walk to the structure on the far side of the park, climb up it above the canopy of the jungle, and watch the sunrise. So after a restless night filled with a blackout, screaming Frenchies, frantic guards, animals trying to get to our food, and the loudest thunderstorm ever we walked in the dark towards tower IV. Sitting on a 1200-year-old building, watching the sunrise from the mist over the jungle was a great location for taking this whole trip in perspective. "I rode my bike here.....I bet there are some other pretty cool places to ride my bike to...."

Mexico City to Tuxtla Guiterrez, Chiapas

The 10 days to Chiapas from D.F. have been filled with such diversity. This is the Mexico that I have been so excited to ride through. The autopista (the toll way) ended in Oaxaca city, so since that point we have been riding through the only main road in these parts. Its great because it goes right through the small towns and villages, but a lot of times there is no shoulder and it seems to go over every mountain possible.

The night before we reached Oaxaca city we camped off of the side of the autopista. It had been raining for a couple of hours, but this was the first time it was raining as it was getting dark. We found a nice place to camp and set up my tent in the rain. Then we unpacked our bikes in the rain. Then we cooked and ate dinner in the rain. Then we brushed our teeth in the rain and then got in the tent and slept through the night while it rained. You know that you have gotten use to your environment when you no longer notice the negative aspects. I mean, there we were, on the side of the road, cooking our dinner in the rain and it seemed perfectly normal. Good thing for quality rain gear.

Oaxaca city is beautiful, despite how touristy it is. This was my second time there, so I knew where to head. JC headed out to visit the Monte Albun Ruins, which are definitely worth a visit, and I explored the Ricardo Flores Magon Cultural center. They had a small exhibit from a local artist, which wasn’t as good as the exhibit on punk last time I was there, but good nonetheless. Later I stumbled into a free indy cinema that was showing free short films from all over Latin America. One was about a guy in prison in Mexico and another was about this crazy healing 'doctor' in Cuba who heals people by pulling on them and slapping them around. Some of the other films I have no idea what they were about. JC and me met up later on, comparing stories mostly about all the food we had consumed throughout the day. I am a street vendors dream. I ask what it is, what’s in it, then more often than not, I buy it. yum.

After Oaxaca city you are in a whole different Mexico. The Spanish is different. The food is different. The site of two gringos on bikes is much more of a scene. The first day out of the city we had a large climb, then an 11-mile downhill complete with switchbacks and banked curves. About half way down I got a flat, to the delight of an entire construction crew. I pulled over to fix it, and next thing I know there are 18 people gathered around me! First it was strange when I realized that they were about 15 on average, than even stranger when not one of them said a word to me. All just quietly and patiently watched me change a tube. I initiated conversation a bit, but only the foreman, the only one over 20, spoke with me. I finished, said adios, and they all said 'adios' in unison. A mile later I caught up with JC, we rolled through a military checkpoint, and into one the restaurant/store/house deals that we so often see. There's where our next adventure began.

They ask the usual questions, then ask where we are going ahorita (right now), we say we don’t know, they laugh, then invite us to sleep there. The local drunk guy was in perfect form. Saying all sorts of crazy things. 'Whose better George Bush or Osama Bin Laden?', 'Eating chilies will make you ride faster', 'You need to have a girl for the mountains cause its cold there'. He also insisted on asking us if we were gay about 1000 times. Anyway, we cooked dinner amidst 20 questions about food and my stove, then hung out with the family and some of the 15 yr old construction workers. Around 1030 we decide to go to sleep. Well, that plan didn’t work out to well. Apparently people in Mexico don’t sleep. The construction kids were up till well past 130am firing down beers and the women of the house were outside mopping before 530am. Amazing. We said our goodbyes after buying some fruit and water and rolled off into another strange day.

We spent the next night in a community center in a village that isn’t even on my map. We enquired about a place to sleep and everyone directed us to El Centro de municipal like it was perfectly normal for two gringos to roll in on bikes and sleep there. One of the workers, showed us to a storage room, opened the windows, and showed us where the bathroom was. It was so odd for it to seem so routine to house touring cyclists. The center was a beehive. The women had a volleyball game going, kids on bikes we were everywhere, tons of the men hanging out, teenagers playing basketball. We cooked dinner in the mix of it all, where we were the ridicule of the men near us. 'That looks like dog food', 'Soybeans make your penis go limp', and ‘you look like a rooster with that haircut'. Its good to know that even in Mexico I am made fun of for what I eat and look like! Most people were cool, and we ended up playing basketball and hanging out pretty late.

So there we are, pedaling along through the isthmus of tehuantepec, when things got weird. First we lost the shoulder when our highway split from the 185 highway. Then the trucks and the people we passed weren’t so friendly. The sky became overcast. Next thing we see is a man on the side of the road waving for us to stop. We evaluate the situation, he is with a women, has a nicer truck with a license plate, and is dressed casually. We pull over. He asks about our Spanish, we respond, 'Si, hablamos un poco', and he starts ranting and raving ultra fast about how dangerous it is where we are. We got him to slow down, and he tells us where we are is very poor and that there has been a string of assaults recently. Some bandits held up a gas truck not too long ago. We ask about camping and he says absolutely not. He is from San Cristobal, Chiapas and offers to drive us there. We politely decline. He says good-bye and we get back to riding.

Now it is getting darker and looks like it will rain. Tension increases and we start look at everyone with a little fear. This feeling had not been a part of this trip at all. We decide to hurry onto the next village. When we roll in we get some odd looks instead of the usual smile and friendly greetings. In the store the woman says she knows of no such place to sleep. Little kids ride bye without laughing or saying hello. What the hell is going on? Then the woman comes out and suggests the centro de salud, or the health center. Perfect. We gun it to there. Inside a very friendly woman in her 20's sees our bikes and understands our questions in broken Spanish. She takes us to see the 'Commadante' of the village. He happens to be across the street with a bunch of people. I told her that I study nutrition and she misunderstood and introduces me as a student of medicine. Oops. We clarify and the Commadante and the local doctor are very helpful. They tell us there is a Dengue Fever epidemic and that we have to sleep inside.

Next think I know, we are in the back of a pick-up truck with our bikes and about 6 men with rifles. They take us to an empty house, unlock it, show us around, and then leave. They also told us they would guard the house throughout the night. Suddenly we have an entire house to ourselves! Unbelievable. Sometimes I can’t even believe the situations I end up in. So we spend the night on the floor of this house, hoping to not catch dengue fever. In the morning we took pictures of the various animals who made their home on this property and went back to el centro de salud to thank them and because I wanted their address. The Doctora who helped us the night before was again very friendly and happy to give me the address. Then she gave me her personal email. Nice. We left happy and pedaled off through the danger zone into Chiapas.

We had a 12-mile climb into the state of Chiapas and it was one of the most memorable experiences of this entire trip. It started ultra hot and humid. Within a couple of miles it started getting dark and raining. It felt so nice. So nice that we didn’t bother with rain gear. Then it started down pouring! oops. We at least got our jackets on and kept going up. Huge streams of water were rushing down the road. Then we turned a corner and there was a flash flood! It was coming off the mountain to our left, running across the road, and into the valley on the right. At first we road, then it got to deep and the current too strong. We had to carry our bikes through the rushing water while trying to avoid rocks tumbling down the mountain through the water. We took our time because there was no guardrail, there was nothing, to our right to prevent us from falling off the road into the valley if we would of slipped. Amazing. We eventually got to the top where the state of Chiapas welcomed us. It was a very important moment for me because riding to Chiapas has been on my mind for so long. And now here I am. Successfully have ridden my bike here. We asked in the first village about sleeping and they directed us to a hotel 8 kilometers further on. We got charged a gringo fee, but it was worth to be able to dry our stuff and cook out of the rain. Also gave us a chance to empty the 5-inch puddles from our panniers.

After some more climbs and a beautiful descent into the valley we are in the capital city of Tuxtla Guiterrez. We've done the usual, eat at the vegetarian restaurant, hang out in the zocolo, listen to our favorite song by the band ketchup, and eat lots of street food. Unfortunately, JC has come down with what every gringo fears when traveling: The runs. Long morning in the bathroom for JC means today is a day off. We got him some medicine (no prescription needed and it cost less than $4!! The USA could learn a lot from Mexico when it comes to health care...) and ahorita he is sleeping in the hotel room. Tomorrow we hope to embark on the 30-mile uphill climb to San Cristobal de Las Casas. After that we have an eventful week seeing giant ruins, two more countries, and the tropical rain forest. Wow, this trip is actually winding down. Just hope that JC feels better soon. More updates soon!

Mazatlan to Mexico City

After the craziness of riding into Guadalajara at night and in the rain, we decided it was safest to not ride into this city of 20 million people. It is not the riding in the city that is scary, both Justin and me are avid city riders; it is the interchanges outside of the city. Imagine riding your bike on 76 or 676 outside of Philly! It is like that, but with less light and way worse roads.

We are staying with some good friends of mine, Nallely and Edgar, that I met a year and a half ago at a WEF protest in Cancun. They helped me get out of jail and we have been close since.

The first day we were here we went to a market that only has metal-punk-artsy-hippie sorts of things. It was amazing. Veggie burgers for 50 cents! The anarcho-punks were in full force and there were plenty of zines, music, and info to gather up. The whole ambience of the place was amazing, very few cops or authorities and 100s and 100s of kids (you know, anyone under 30 or who still acts as such) who are not into the lifestyle being sold to them MTV or coca-cola. We mingled around for a while and then went to explore the rest of the city.

Hanging out with our 'girlfriends' from the boat hasn’t been as successful as we had hoped. I guess the whole energy of meeting on a boat and spending a night on a boat was lost. Maybe she thought that I would of changed my clothes or trimmed my beard since last time I saw her. ha. I ended up spending some time with her at the Zocolo where we saw a jazz concert, an art exhibit with all sorts of anti-Bush cartoons and anti-plan Colombia posters, bought some photographs from a vendor, ate some coconut treats, and took a ride on a bike taxi. Then we went to the Anthropology museum and to a section of the city called Coyocan. I had been there before but could not remember the dope restaurant I had eaten at. We got some expensive pasta at a chic hangout near the square.

We have spent a lot of time just wondering around the city, which is one of my favorite things to do. There is a market outside of Nallely and Edgar's house, which isn’t in the best neighborhood, to buy all sorts of neat things. One morning we bought Nopales, a type of cacti, mixed with onions and peppers, some tortillas, and some salsa, for less than $2.50 for the 3 of us to eat. Lovely. Nallely needed a part for her blender, and there is a guy in the market who only sells parts for a blender. Amazing. In the USA you would probably have to buy a whole new one.

Our new addiction, which is much healthier and a little cheaper, is juice in a bag. For about 60 cents they fill a giant bag with the juice of your choice and give you a straw to drink it. Watermelon, Orange and Fresh Lemon have been the 3 most popular.

We have spent four days here, great to be off the bike. Our next stop will be in Oaxaca, where we want to see the Monte Albun ruins and eat lots of vegan chocolate and enfrijoladas. There is also a community center there named after the Mexican anarchist Ricardo Flores Magon.

We have some big climbs ahead and will return to the heat soon. But, we have a lot to see in the last 1600 kilometers of our journey. We are entering the jungle and new indigenous cultures. 2 more countries and places I have been to and already love....

Thanks to everyone who sends emails, I appreciate it so much!

But what do you do about......?

Hello from Mexico City! I am going to answer some questions I have been getting.

Our Route
I guess I forgot that not everyone is familiar with the geography of Mexico.
We headed directly south from Los Angeles, about 1100 miles down the Baja Peninsula. From the city of La Paz we took a ferry to the city of Mazatlan. From there we headed southeast through Tepic and Guadalajara into Mexico City. From here we will head directly south through the city of Oaxaco and then into the state of Chiapas. From there we will head east through Guatemala, past the ruins of Tikal and then into Belize. We will only be in Belize for a couple of days before we fly out of the Belize airport on the east coast of Central America. I hope that clarifies a bit!



Bicycle Touring
Not all my friends and family are avid cyclists, eh? Bicycle touring is a way of traveling by bicycle where you carry with you everything you need. For example, we have a tent, two stoves (with fuel), sleeping bags, rain gear, clothes, dried food, water containers, tools, maps; everything we will need for the two month journey. Well, of course, we have to buy food and water everyday. The idea is to enjoy the process more than the goal. An American asked us why we ride so much and don’t spend more time sight seeing; I told him that we are sight seeing constantly. When you are in a car the environment is merely in the way of your destination, but when you are on a bike you become a part of that environment and appreciate all aspects of it. The other day we were climbing this mountain for about 2 hrs and then we entered a pine forest. You feel the air get colder, you are overwhelmed by the smell, the forest absorbs you, and you appreciate arriving there by bicycle.

Camping
We are yet to camp at a campsite. We just find a place hidden from the road and set up camp. It’s great, that little area of the world becomes our home for the next 10 hours. We set up the tent, unload what we need for the night and prepare dinner. Then we sit and relax, and maybe look at the stars or write in our journal. A lot of times our exhaustion decides that we should just go right to sleep! Camping has become more difficult in the mainland and will be even harder when we are in the humid jungles of the south.

Food
So how does a respectable vegan survive below the border? Lots of beans and tortillas. ha. When you spend months outside of the USA you realize how strict veganism is such a privilege, one that is only possible for the richest people in the world. No, I don’t have to eat quesadillas and scrambled eggs to survive, but sometimes you don’t have a choice about the ingredients in the only bread that is available or the type of cooking oil used. Veganism is completely unheard of down here; many vegetarian restaurants do not have vegan options. Despite all of this I am surviving well and trying all sorts of new vegan foods. There are these fried sweet breadstick things called Churros and these unnamed coconut candies that are unbelievable. Mushroom Quesadillas are very popular, and here the cheese goes on top, not on the inside, so it is very easy to order them sin queso. Panaderia, or bread shops, are an every day stop. We crush about 4-5 big pieces of sweet bread every morning. Most of the options for me aren’t as nice as those apple filled whole wheat pastries I had at a health food bakery in Mazatlan, but good nonetheless.

It is a misnomer that you need to eat all the local food to understand the culture. I am always walking extremely slow (to Justin and Nallely´s dismay) through markets so I can see what kinds of foods are available and their preparation method. Seeing the local ingredients and how they differ from a state 200 miles away interests me enough, I do not need to eat beef tripe to understand it any further. There is always something local and vegan for me to taste, and as my Spanish improves the amount of foods I can eat increases!

Bike Problems
So when you leave for a 3000-mile bike trip you want to have all the best parts, right? I am finding it doesn’t matter. My top of the line topeak road bike pump ($47) broke in the rain 500 miles ago. Two days later the one I bought in Mexico broke. My $1200 bike has probably had more problems than Justin's $300 bike from EBay. But my $35 tires are about 10x better than the $15 crap tires Justin left with. You really just never know. I understand that if you buy something from walmart it is going to break sooner than later, but we are buying components from companies owned by the people who do these things. Why do they sell such crap? Is it all designed for yuppies that only use it during their two-week vacations? There has to be some companies out there that make stuff that can hold up to what we put it through. Here is a list of broken parts. (M) Means I broke it, (J) means Justin did.

7 broken spokes (M)

2 stripped stem bolt holes (M)

1 broken star washer (M)

1 broken topeak frame pump (M)

1 broken giant pump (M)

1 broken derailleur (J)

2 ripped tires (J)

1 leaking stove (J)

I also bought some tubes from a mountain bike distributor and they are the crappiest tubes ever. The valve ripped on 3 of them. I have had 5 flats, and Justin around 15. Not just the run over something type, but ones from the valve breaking, pinch flats from not being able to get enough air in our tires (cause my pump broke and Justin's sucks), and ones from patches leaking (it is hard to patch a tube in the rain).

Despite all this I do have equipment I am proud of. My Sierra Designs tent has kept us dry (if we set it up right before we go to sleep!) during torrential downpours and my mountain hardwear jacket has kept me dry and cool during those long hours of pedaling through the rain. I hope to do a whole product review when we get a touring website going.

I hope I have made what we are doing and what we go through a little more clear. My next couple entries will include more specific stories and more about what our day-to-day lives are like.

peace, Matt!

Mazatlan to Guadalajara

1450 miles pedaled, over half way to Belize. Internet places have been few and far between because we are taking the toll way. Its much more direct and has a huge, clean shoulder. I don’t have time to write much, but I will say that we have had gigantic climbs, rain every single day, and tons of bike problems. It’s been a great adventure.

We hope to be in Mexico City by the weekend and I will do more updates then. Back to riding in the rain!

Guerrero Negro, Baja Sur to Mazatlan, Sinolia

Things have been so crazy; I don’t even know what to write about. So many little things happen every day, I can't even remember them, let alone type them into an online journal. While we ride we laugh about so many things that have happened, its unbelievable. Most recently we met a Japanese kid on his way to Tierra del Fuego, Argentina from Los Angeles, California. He speaks very very little English and zero Spanish. It has been an adventure in itself just trying to communicate with him over the last couple of days. I am short on time, as always when I am on the computer, so I am going to type up some entries from my written journal verbatim.

Day 11, 71 miles

Today we got up relatively early and hammered out 33 miles to San Ignacio, where we spent the hot part of the day. In the desert it reaches about 110 between 12 and 4, the sun melts your skin if you’re not in the shade. There was a festival around the center square where we spent 5 hours in the shade people watching. We looked like vagrants, doing our dishes with the faucet in the park and eating peanut butter on tortillas, but most people stared at the drunken guy passed out on the ground next to us.

We left town around 430, but Justin hit another pothole on the way out of town and we had to fix his flat. We pushed on slowly, until the weather cooled. We had an amazing view of a 6,000 ft peak that towered above all the other mountains in the range. We climbed the small pass and hammered on for a while at a good speed. Just as it was getting dark we came upon a 'downhill ahead' sign and decided we would camp after it. Next thing we now we are flying down switchbacks at 35 mph + into a canyon. It was beautiful. We were able to look back and see the sun setting behind the giant peak that towered over the canyon. We had a short climb out of it and then we decided to camp across the street from a gas company. Dinner was delayed because some men showed up at the gas place and we had to hide from them for a while.

Day 17, La Paz to Mazatlan on the ferry

After our first night in a hotel, we got up early and crushed a giant breakfast at the local vegetarian restaurant. Post office, supermercado, and then a 10-mile ride to the ferry. I am stressing cause our ferry tickets cost 3x what lonely planet had them listed for. I paid $48US with student discount, but JC had to pay the full $60. Someone told us that bikes cost the same as motorcycles to put under the ferry, an additional $50 each. So basically when we bought the tickets we didn’t mention the bikes. Anyway, we get to the ferry terminal and look around to develop a plan to scam our bikes on. The first idea was to talk a truck driver into letting us put our bikes in the back. That didn’t work. The next idea was to carry them up where everyone else brings their luggage and simply ignore the fact that they are bikes with 50+ pounds of shit strapped to them. The security guy wasn’t having that. He told us to bring them to where the cars are. Damn. We walked down there like we knew what we were doing and were told to wait. We sat and sat, dreading being caught and having to pay an additional $50. It started to get late; people were beginning to board El Barco. Finally, a guy waived for the motorcyclists to drive in and for us to follow. We rode our bikes into the ferry and locked them where he pointed. We grabbed our plastic bag of stuff for the 18-hour journey and headed to the cabin. Success!

The boat was an adventure in itself. Within 3 to 4 hours people were drunk and sprawled out everywhere. It was like the beach! So much fun. We searched the boat for the two cute girls we were scoping earlier and we found them in the outside bar area on the second deck. So that’s where we chilled for the next couple of hours. We read, looked at the maps, and ate some tortillas with canned refried beans to the amusement of two drunken men behind us. They started asking us about the maps, we told them about our trip, and it just got nuts from there. I wish I had taken a class on understanding drunken Spanish cause most of the time I was clueless to what they were saying. So much fun. Ended with pictures being taken with the whole family. We were the coolest guys in the bar.

Back to the girls. Our pics were right near them, so they asked me to take a pic of them in front of the sunset. I take the pic, ask them where they are from...'Mexico City? Vamos a la ciudad de Mexico!' Next thing we know we are hanging out with two 23 year old engineering students alone on the top deck of the ship. Nice. They can speak English, we try to use our Spanish to their amusement, and it was great. We talked about school, about life, about traveling, and about Mexico. I dropped some knowledge about Chiapas, it goes well.

Next they inform us that they are sleeping up there; it is too hot and crazy to sleep in the seat area inside. They ask us where our sleeping bags are, and we point to our plastic bag of items. They invite us to share their blanket. Score. They started to set it up and I went to rescue Masoyuki from the smelly sitting area, where he had returned to hours earlier after a lone beer did him in. We went back up to the top deck and Justin had secured a place next to the girl he was digging. Damn, I am stuck between Justin and Masoyuki. Needless to say I got a lot more sleep than Justin did. In the morning we all sat and talked, we got numbers and invites for Mexico City and all took pics in front of the boat. Goodbye kisses were exchanged in lovely Latin American style, we got our bikes, and road off into Mazatlan....First stop: vegan sweet bread from the whole grain bakery downtown....