Saturday, September 3, 2011
Monday, December 6, 2010
Recumbent Thoughts from the Big Easy
Stats: 3006 miles. 42 days riding, 6 days of rest. 8 states. 5 flats. 1 wipeout in Tallahassee. 1 heck of an adventure.
Money raised for Fill This House - @ $15,000
Most of you know that I ride a recumbent bike. It is a long wheelbase chopper-like design, reminiscent of the bike Peter Fonda used in Easy Rider. It is made by Easy Racer of Freedom California; hence my nickname for it, the Big Easy.
Riding coast to coast provides ample time for reflection. If you’ll indulge me, I’d like to provide some observations and life lessons learned from the seat of Big Easy.
In bullet form, with explanation to follow, here is the Good, the Bad and the Ugly which I observed over seven weeks:
The Good (with a nod to the song writers who echo them)
• America the beautiful IS beautiful (Katherine Lee Bates)
• I have amazingly supportive friends and family (Carole King)
• God cares for me more than I will ever be able to comprehend
• Thank God I’m a country boy! (John Denver)
• When God made me born a Yankee he was teasin’ (The Indigo Girls)
The Bad
• I saw little that was man-made that improves on God’s creation, and much that spoils it
• Armadillos are no better than possums in crossing the road; both need vision-casting from the chickens
The Ugly (a.k.a. things about myself I need to work on)
• I prefer to be in charge
• I have too hard a time adjusting to the style and tempo of others
• Need an attitude adjustment: More empathy, less “Get up, keep up and shut up”
• I need more patience in EVERY area of my life, and I need it NOW.
• Drop the Entitlement Mentality that life is not allowed to throw problems my way
• Stop beating myself up; lack of perfection is not a sign of absolute failure
Notes:
These words from America the Beautiful came alive before my eyes as I rode Big Easy:
"O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!"
We saw those spacious skies like never before in the desert of west Texas, we saw the amber waves of grain in the rice paddies of Louisiana, the purple mountain majesties as we rode at dusk in Arizona, and the irrigated, fruited plains of California’s Imperial Valley. We also saw Ponderosa Forests in the Gila Wilderness, lime green bayous in Evangeline Parish, powdered sugar beaches in Biloxi, and the awesome Big Muddy near St Francisville, LA. America is always changing; often dramatically and unexpectedly. It is breathtaking, particularly on the mountain legs.
America the Beautiful goes on to say:
"America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!"
Because Carl and I have now traveled from sea to shining sea, this stanza has new meaning for me. For the first time I noticed that the lyrics ask God to add two things to His marvelous physical creation - grace and brotherhood. I understand why. You need divine grace in every shape and form to safely cross this country. Equally, our experience was s transformed from mere bike ride into an epic saga by the brotherhood (and sisterhood) of those who joined us along the way. Folks joined us in many ways; in the flesh or by reading the blog or by supporting Fill This House. The awesome majesty of the countryside was, in the end, overshadowed by the experience of being in the hands of a gracious God and in the fellowship of loving brothers and sisters.
Thank God I’m a country boy. I was raised a city boy, but this ride reaffirmed that I am happiest when I am spending the bulk of each day outside. I loved being a farmer when Mary and I lived in Vermont. As a teacher, my happiest hours were spent outside coaching or leading camping trips. If I have to spend an entire day inside I become like a caged animal. Big Easy was my recliner on wheels, outdoor livin at its very best. In addition, there is something liberating about having the ONE BIG THING which is my sole task for the day. If that one big thing is eight hours outside riding a bicycle, hallelujah.
When God made me born a Yankee, he was teasin’. Many of my friends just don’t get it. Why is it that I love the south? It started when we moved to North Carolina in the 1980s. I felt I’d come home although I’d never been there before. It was the soft climate, the gentility of social discourse, the christian ethic which is, to me, a positive feature of what is called the Bible belt. To many of my Yankee friends the south conjures up rednecks, racists, male chauvinists and intolerance of every sort. I will grant that those sorts exist in the south, but I hope my friends will concede that intolerance of every sort is hardly a southern monopoly. Rednecks come in every color, even blue.
Other transplants to the land of cotton do get it. You feel like you’ve come home, that you are in a space and a place where you can be comfortable with whom you are. To us folks there is something magical, welcoming and hospitable about the southland. A lot has to do with comfort foods -we can feast on shrimp n grits, fresh pecan pie, sweet tea , biscuits and gravy. And we can say “y’all” without embarrassment, for my vote one of the best words in the English language.
Now to the ugly part of my cross country experience. I had to confront, daily, things about myself that I wish were not true. It was humbling. My Ugly list is above; I wish it were shorter. To my riding companions, I have offered a general apology for the times when I was less supportive, more impatient, less accommodating and more like a task master than a team mate. Each one of them modeled for me the character traits I am trying to develop. Luckily they all understand that although the spirit is willing, the flesh is often weak.
I wish I still had my old bumper sticker that said PBPGINFWMY (Please be patient, God is not finished with me yet). Yes, I have a long way to go. That is why GRACE is so important.
Finally, I want to thank you for supporting Fill This House with your donation. The outpouring of support has enabled Liz Tippit to take on a number of new teenagers, all of whom desperately need a hand to help them start living on their own. Given the depressing statistics about the fate of kids who leave foster care, your gift may well be preventing homelessness and even saving lives.
Feel free to continue following the Progress of Fill This House via the website:
www.fillthishouse.org
May the God of the poor, the hungry, the homeless, the widows and the orphans bless you richly for being his feet and his hands.
Money raised for Fill This House - @ $15,000
Most of you know that I ride a recumbent bike. It is a long wheelbase chopper-like design, reminiscent of the bike Peter Fonda used in Easy Rider. It is made by Easy Racer of Freedom California; hence my nickname for it, the Big Easy.
Riding coast to coast provides ample time for reflection. If you’ll indulge me, I’d like to provide some observations and life lessons learned from the seat of Big Easy.
In bullet form, with explanation to follow, here is the Good, the Bad and the Ugly which I observed over seven weeks:
The Good (with a nod to the song writers who echo them)
• America the beautiful IS beautiful (Katherine Lee Bates)
• I have amazingly supportive friends and family (Carole King)
• God cares for me more than I will ever be able to comprehend
• Thank God I’m a country boy! (John Denver)
• When God made me born a Yankee he was teasin’ (The Indigo Girls)
The Bad
• I saw little that was man-made that improves on God’s creation, and much that spoils it
• Armadillos are no better than possums in crossing the road; both need vision-casting from the chickens
The Ugly (a.k.a. things about myself I need to work on)
• I prefer to be in charge
• I have too hard a time adjusting to the style and tempo of others
• Need an attitude adjustment: More empathy, less “Get up, keep up and shut up”
• I need more patience in EVERY area of my life, and I need it NOW.
• Drop the Entitlement Mentality that life is not allowed to throw problems my way
• Stop beating myself up; lack of perfection is not a sign of absolute failure
Notes:
These words from America the Beautiful came alive before my eyes as I rode Big Easy:
"O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!"
We saw those spacious skies like never before in the desert of west Texas, we saw the amber waves of grain in the rice paddies of Louisiana, the purple mountain majesties as we rode at dusk in Arizona, and the irrigated, fruited plains of California’s Imperial Valley. We also saw Ponderosa Forests in the Gila Wilderness, lime green bayous in Evangeline Parish, powdered sugar beaches in Biloxi, and the awesome Big Muddy near St Francisville, LA. America is always changing; often dramatically and unexpectedly. It is breathtaking, particularly on the mountain legs.
America the Beautiful goes on to say:
"America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!"
Because Carl and I have now traveled from sea to shining sea, this stanza has new meaning for me. For the first time I noticed that the lyrics ask God to add two things to His marvelous physical creation - grace and brotherhood. I understand why. You need divine grace in every shape and form to safely cross this country. Equally, our experience was s transformed from mere bike ride into an epic saga by the brotherhood (and sisterhood) of those who joined us along the way. Folks joined us in many ways; in the flesh or by reading the blog or by supporting Fill This House. The awesome majesty of the countryside was, in the end, overshadowed by the experience of being in the hands of a gracious God and in the fellowship of loving brothers and sisters.
Thank God I’m a country boy. I was raised a city boy, but this ride reaffirmed that I am happiest when I am spending the bulk of each day outside. I loved being a farmer when Mary and I lived in Vermont. As a teacher, my happiest hours were spent outside coaching or leading camping trips. If I have to spend an entire day inside I become like a caged animal. Big Easy was my recliner on wheels, outdoor livin at its very best. In addition, there is something liberating about having the ONE BIG THING which is my sole task for the day. If that one big thing is eight hours outside riding a bicycle, hallelujah.
When God made me born a Yankee, he was teasin’. Many of my friends just don’t get it. Why is it that I love the south? It started when we moved to North Carolina in the 1980s. I felt I’d come home although I’d never been there before. It was the soft climate, the gentility of social discourse, the christian ethic which is, to me, a positive feature of what is called the Bible belt. To many of my Yankee friends the south conjures up rednecks, racists, male chauvinists and intolerance of every sort. I will grant that those sorts exist in the south, but I hope my friends will concede that intolerance of every sort is hardly a southern monopoly. Rednecks come in every color, even blue.
Other transplants to the land of cotton do get it. You feel like you’ve come home, that you are in a space and a place where you can be comfortable with whom you are. To us folks there is something magical, welcoming and hospitable about the southland. A lot has to do with comfort foods -we can feast on shrimp n grits, fresh pecan pie, sweet tea , biscuits and gravy. And we can say “y’all” without embarrassment, for my vote one of the best words in the English language.
Now to the ugly part of my cross country experience. I had to confront, daily, things about myself that I wish were not true. It was humbling. My Ugly list is above; I wish it were shorter. To my riding companions, I have offered a general apology for the times when I was less supportive, more impatient, less accommodating and more like a task master than a team mate. Each one of them modeled for me the character traits I am trying to develop. Luckily they all understand that although the spirit is willing, the flesh is often weak.
I wish I still had my old bumper sticker that said PBPGINFWMY (Please be patient, God is not finished with me yet). Yes, I have a long way to go. That is why GRACE is so important.
Finally, I want to thank you for supporting Fill This House with your donation. The outpouring of support has enabled Liz Tippit to take on a number of new teenagers, all of whom desperately need a hand to help them start living on their own. Given the depressing statistics about the fate of kids who leave foster care, your gift may well be preventing homelessness and even saving lives.
Feel free to continue following the Progress of Fill This House via the website:
www.fillthishouse.org
May the God of the poor, the hungry, the homeless, the widows and the orphans bless you richly for being his feet and his hands.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Now that the sand has settled, It's time to add reflections about the ride
Sam Lombardo has written the following reflection on what his week of riding meant to him. I hope you enjoy it. For anyone else on the trip so inclined, put your closing thoughts into print and we will post them on the blog!
November 2010
My Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,
Lisa and my children cannot thank you enough, nor can I, for your prayers regarding my bike Ride across Texas and for your financial support. The Lord delivered more than we could have hoped or imagined. Let me explain. But before I do, here’s a brief bottom line recap for my “Type A” friends:
The Numbers: Cycled + Walked + Crawled + Rolled = Total
Sam Lombardo: 207.3 19.6 22.1 1.0 300
Dan Fishwick: 263 0 0 0 263
563 miles
Together We Make All the Difference
Most know the verse “BE STILL AND KNOW THAT I AM GOD.” When you combine going into this bike trip a bit undertrained, coupled with consistent headwinds, temperatures in the mid 90’s, hills, hills, more hills, and 80% of the time pedaling in solitude because well, let’s just say the others were a little faster than me, “Be still and know that I am God” became a familiar reality. When you empty yourself of all thought and energy and have a still environment (in the middle of absolutely no where) HIS voice becomes evidently clear.
As I repeatedly sat on the side of the road, humbled and convicted, thankful and joyful, broken and restored, clearly this week was one of my life’ s most intimate moments with my Lord. This spiritual high-water mark caused me to be mostly quiet with the “Guardian Angel Team” I was blessed to have.
Michael Novak was divinely picked by God to be my roommate. Not only was he a joy to be with, he looked out for me and did whatever he could to assist this novice cyclist in getting my miles in. We also had some real strong fellowship that made it clear that God was speaking to the both of us on how we can be more Christ-like when we return home. He was also very wise, you know, the kind of man that has been around the block… on a bike. He probably does not even remember the answer he gave me when, after three days of riding, I asked him a rather personal question; “ Michael when does a cyclist know when it is time to use Butt Crème?” His answer, “When one asks the question.”
Charles Breer, Peter Conway’s cousin from Minnesota, was the ringer in the group. He cycled up the Vanderpool Cut, the steepest hill in the state of Texas, like it wasn’t there. I chose to ride up the Vanderpool Cut in the van - I wanted to see my family again this side of heaven. So, I am sitting on top of this mountain and Dan (one of the team members) breaks out his fiddle and begins to make my day. I think that based on the size of the hill we just rode up, I would have at least an hour to rest. The next thing I know maybe 15 minutes goes by and here comes Charles. He pedals over to me and says, “It sure is nice up here.” Not even a little out of breath.
Yes, Charles is a tremendous athlete, but that is not what I will remember most about him. What I will remember most is his compassion. He stayed back several times and let me draft behind him, which does two things - it makes it easier both physically and mentally. His compassion is a lifestyle. He volunteers in his hometown and is someone you just want to be around. He is one of the most Christ-like servant leaders I have ever met. And to top it off, you would think that a man who cycles over 12,000 miles in one year without ever being out of breath would have at least a hint of arrogance about him. Charles does not.
One of the persons we purposed to meet along the way was speaker, author and sports psychologist David Cook. We stayed a night in Utopia, Texas and the following morning played golf at the Links of Utopia. We were the only ones on the course except for 300 wild boar hiding in the bushes waiting for us to finish. Robert, the superintendent, was up at 3 a.m. literally shooting wild Boar off the golf course. That morning we were living in a dream. What made our time special with David is that he had been in Ohio just three weeks prior. It was a one day golf outing at Sand Ridge Country Club in Chardon called the Johnny Cup Invitational. He came to encourage all the “Johnnies” who have gone through the study guide from his book Golf’s Sacred Journey. David has made repeated trips to Northeast Ohio over the last couple of years and we are so grateful for him.
David gave our team the privilege of seeing two finished scenes from the major motion picture that will be released this coming May/June. The name of the movie is “Links of Utopia” with Robert Duvall playing the role of the mentor “Johnny” from David’s book Golf’s Sacred Journey. As we golfed the Links of Utopia with hickory sticks and the face on putter, Dave shared his view from behind the scenes as they shot the movie in Utopia, Texas. The people in Utopia were genuine, warm and left you no choice but to relax, take your shoes off and stay awhile.
One of my other most amazing blessings was the van ride to the Houston airport from Navasota. We left shortly after dinner. Michael and I sat in the back as Carl Tippit drove with Charles Breer sitting next to him. What makes this ride amazing is the spirit in which Carl Tippit drove us to the Houston airport. He and Charles talked, laughed and then bid us a hearty goodbye. Here is what was amazing about it. Carl put in his miles for the day, drove Dan Fishwick to his drop off location, came back to the hotel, took a quick shower, had a quick dinner, then back to the hotel. He then drives 70+ miles one way in crazy Houston traffic to the airport to drop us off. To put in all the miles for the day then joyfully serve late into the evening really ministered to me, which made for a very hearty goodbye. Carl, you are a strong Shepherd and a hard worker. I know one of the reasons this trip moved so smoothly is because you and Peter put your heart and soul into making it safe and as worry-free as possible.
Dan Fishwick, who was the van driver for this segment of the trip, is a retired school teacher. He loves to cycle and play the fiddle. Dan was the perfect fit for the team. As the van driver he was always there ready to bail me out when I could not pedal another stroke. He taught me how to fix a flat and repair other bike issues. His role was to take the van ahead and pick a place for lunch. Needless to say I was always the last one to ride up for lunch and he would have lunch all laid out for us along with a spirit of hospitality. There were times I had no appetite whatsoever and he encouraged me to eat. Dan challenged me to pedal as much as I could and whenever I was done, he volunteered to cycle the remaining miles. He modeled servant-hood throughout the week and in his spare time( ha, ha) he stumbled upon the Quebe Sisters. They are three sisters ages 24, 22, and 20 who all play the fiddle and sing. One of our biggest nights out was to hear them at the Swiss Alp. This old hall is the place where the town comes out and, you guessed it, does the Texas two-step.
Most of you who know Peter, know that he is a true historian at heart. If it wasn’t for Peter stopping for every historical marker every fifty feet, I probably would still be lost out in Texas somewhere. He also is an animal lover. When you see Peter, ask him about his encounter with a very special Donkey that was standing just off the side of the road. Peter is amazing. He seems to have this supernatural ability to read from an animal’s facial expression what they are thinking. As you know, he is a very humble man, so you will probably have to drag his experience with the Donkey out of him.
And the person I blame for all the above and more is Peter Conway. One of the nights we watched a rough draft cut of a new documentary on his dad Bill. What stood out most about the documentary was not the amazing business success that Bill had. What stood out most was he always had his eye on making the people around him better along the way. The next day on my bike ride, Peter and I were enjoying some tail wind and some downhill cycling and I took that moment to thank him for not only inviting me to go on this trip, but for also following in his father’s footsteps in making people better along the way. Peter, it was a joy journeying with you mostly because you really love bringing people together in such a way that it brings out the best in all of us.
In closing, this trip will serve me the rest of my life, for it will remind me that together the body of Christ makes all the difference.
Serving Him, Sam Lombardo
November 2010
My Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,
Lisa and my children cannot thank you enough, nor can I, for your prayers regarding my bike Ride across Texas and for your financial support. The Lord delivered more than we could have hoped or imagined. Let me explain. But before I do, here’s a brief bottom line recap for my “Type A” friends:
The Numbers: Cycled + Walked + Crawled + Rolled = Total
Sam Lombardo: 207.3 19.6 22.1 1.0 300
Dan Fishwick: 263 0 0 0 263
563 miles
Together We Make All the Difference
Most know the verse “BE STILL AND KNOW THAT I AM GOD.” When you combine going into this bike trip a bit undertrained, coupled with consistent headwinds, temperatures in the mid 90’s, hills, hills, more hills, and 80% of the time pedaling in solitude because well, let’s just say the others were a little faster than me, “Be still and know that I am God” became a familiar reality. When you empty yourself of all thought and energy and have a still environment (in the middle of absolutely no where) HIS voice becomes evidently clear.
As I repeatedly sat on the side of the road, humbled and convicted, thankful and joyful, broken and restored, clearly this week was one of my life’ s most intimate moments with my Lord. This spiritual high-water mark caused me to be mostly quiet with the “Guardian Angel Team” I was blessed to have.
Michael Novak was divinely picked by God to be my roommate. Not only was he a joy to be with, he looked out for me and did whatever he could to assist this novice cyclist in getting my miles in. We also had some real strong fellowship that made it clear that God was speaking to the both of us on how we can be more Christ-like when we return home. He was also very wise, you know, the kind of man that has been around the block… on a bike. He probably does not even remember the answer he gave me when, after three days of riding, I asked him a rather personal question; “ Michael when does a cyclist know when it is time to use Butt Crème?” His answer, “When one asks the question.”
Charles Breer, Peter Conway’s cousin from Minnesota, was the ringer in the group. He cycled up the Vanderpool Cut, the steepest hill in the state of Texas, like it wasn’t there. I chose to ride up the Vanderpool Cut in the van - I wanted to see my family again this side of heaven. So, I am sitting on top of this mountain and Dan (one of the team members) breaks out his fiddle and begins to make my day. I think that based on the size of the hill we just rode up, I would have at least an hour to rest. The next thing I know maybe 15 minutes goes by and here comes Charles. He pedals over to me and says, “It sure is nice up here.” Not even a little out of breath.
Yes, Charles is a tremendous athlete, but that is not what I will remember most about him. What I will remember most is his compassion. He stayed back several times and let me draft behind him, which does two things - it makes it easier both physically and mentally. His compassion is a lifestyle. He volunteers in his hometown and is someone you just want to be around. He is one of the most Christ-like servant leaders I have ever met. And to top it off, you would think that a man who cycles over 12,000 miles in one year without ever being out of breath would have at least a hint of arrogance about him. Charles does not.
One of the persons we purposed to meet along the way was speaker, author and sports psychologist David Cook. We stayed a night in Utopia, Texas and the following morning played golf at the Links of Utopia. We were the only ones on the course except for 300 wild boar hiding in the bushes waiting for us to finish. Robert, the superintendent, was up at 3 a.m. literally shooting wild Boar off the golf course. That morning we were living in a dream. What made our time special with David is that he had been in Ohio just three weeks prior. It was a one day golf outing at Sand Ridge Country Club in Chardon called the Johnny Cup Invitational. He came to encourage all the “Johnnies” who have gone through the study guide from his book Golf’s Sacred Journey. David has made repeated trips to Northeast Ohio over the last couple of years and we are so grateful for him.
David gave our team the privilege of seeing two finished scenes from the major motion picture that will be released this coming May/June. The name of the movie is “Links of Utopia” with Robert Duvall playing the role of the mentor “Johnny” from David’s book Golf’s Sacred Journey. As we golfed the Links of Utopia with hickory sticks and the face on putter, Dave shared his view from behind the scenes as they shot the movie in Utopia, Texas. The people in Utopia were genuine, warm and left you no choice but to relax, take your shoes off and stay awhile.
One of my other most amazing blessings was the van ride to the Houston airport from Navasota. We left shortly after dinner. Michael and I sat in the back as Carl Tippit drove with Charles Breer sitting next to him. What makes this ride amazing is the spirit in which Carl Tippit drove us to the Houston airport. He and Charles talked, laughed and then bid us a hearty goodbye. Here is what was amazing about it. Carl put in his miles for the day, drove Dan Fishwick to his drop off location, came back to the hotel, took a quick shower, had a quick dinner, then back to the hotel. He then drives 70+ miles one way in crazy Houston traffic to the airport to drop us off. To put in all the miles for the day then joyfully serve late into the evening really ministered to me, which made for a very hearty goodbye. Carl, you are a strong Shepherd and a hard worker. I know one of the reasons this trip moved so smoothly is because you and Peter put your heart and soul into making it safe and as worry-free as possible.
Dan Fishwick, who was the van driver for this segment of the trip, is a retired school teacher. He loves to cycle and play the fiddle. Dan was the perfect fit for the team. As the van driver he was always there ready to bail me out when I could not pedal another stroke. He taught me how to fix a flat and repair other bike issues. His role was to take the van ahead and pick a place for lunch. Needless to say I was always the last one to ride up for lunch and he would have lunch all laid out for us along with a spirit of hospitality. There were times I had no appetite whatsoever and he encouraged me to eat. Dan challenged me to pedal as much as I could and whenever I was done, he volunteered to cycle the remaining miles. He modeled servant-hood throughout the week and in his spare time( ha, ha) he stumbled upon the Quebe Sisters. They are three sisters ages 24, 22, and 20 who all play the fiddle and sing. One of our biggest nights out was to hear them at the Swiss Alp. This old hall is the place where the town comes out and, you guessed it, does the Texas two-step.
Most of you who know Peter, know that he is a true historian at heart. If it wasn’t for Peter stopping for every historical marker every fifty feet, I probably would still be lost out in Texas somewhere. He also is an animal lover. When you see Peter, ask him about his encounter with a very special Donkey that was standing just off the side of the road. Peter is amazing. He seems to have this supernatural ability to read from an animal’s facial expression what they are thinking. As you know, he is a very humble man, so you will probably have to drag his experience with the Donkey out of him.
And the person I blame for all the above and more is Peter Conway. One of the nights we watched a rough draft cut of a new documentary on his dad Bill. What stood out most about the documentary was not the amazing business success that Bill had. What stood out most was he always had his eye on making the people around him better along the way. The next day on my bike ride, Peter and I were enjoying some tail wind and some downhill cycling and I took that moment to thank him for not only inviting me to go on this trip, but for also following in his father’s footsteps in making people better along the way. Peter, it was a joy journeying with you mostly because you really love bringing people together in such a way that it brings out the best in all of us.
In closing, this trip will serve me the rest of my life, for it will remind me that together the body of Christ makes all the difference.
Serving Him, Sam Lombardo
Monday, November 29, 2010
TransAM Week 7 Pictures are posted
Check out the week seven pictures! Here is the link:
http://transam2010.blogspot.com/
http://transam2010.blogspot.com/
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Saturday's mini post: We Made it!
Full details of our final ride will be posted once the sand settles and we have had time to recover from our celebrations.......which were hearty indeed and involved particularly potent margaritas.
Let the record show that at 3:30 PM on Saturday November 20th, Carl and Peter rolled onto the sand, shed unneccessary gear and dipped their front wheels into the Atlantic Ocean!
The exact spot was St. Augustine Beach, Florida. The blessed event was witnessed by Bill Conway, Gina Tippit, Jeff Fallon, Warren Morris and Liz Tippit, who secretly flew in from Cleveland and surprised us with her presence. Liz brought horns, Hawaiian lais, bunting and champagne. It was quite an event!
Carl and Peter not only dipped their tires in the ocean, but they held their bikes high over their heads in victory. The last ocean water they had been in was the Pacific, 48 days earlier. Huzzah!
So, it is finished. The full details and final stats will follow in due course, but not even this blog can capture what a ride it's been. Thanks for following us, and thanks for caring. God Bless.
Let the record show that at 3:30 PM on Saturday November 20th, Carl and Peter rolled onto the sand, shed unneccessary gear and dipped their front wheels into the Atlantic Ocean!
The exact spot was St. Augustine Beach, Florida. The blessed event was witnessed by Bill Conway, Gina Tippit, Jeff Fallon, Warren Morris and Liz Tippit, who secretly flew in from Cleveland and surprised us with her presence. Liz brought horns, Hawaiian lais, bunting and champagne. It was quite an event!
Carl and Peter not only dipped their tires in the ocean, but they held their bikes high over their heads in victory. The last ocean water they had been in was the Pacific, 48 days earlier. Huzzah!
So, it is finished. The full details and final stats will follow in due course, but not even this blog can capture what a ride it's been. Thanks for following us, and thanks for caring. God Bless.
Friday's Post- We're Gonna Make it!
Today’s guest blogger is Jeff Fallon.
“We may not have a home to call our own, but we’re gonna make it.” Performed admirably by B.B. King
Quote of the day:
“The music helped my riding, but losing the burrito was a real game changer.” Jeff Fallon
Carl and Peter, after six weeks, have settled into a comfortable mode of guidance. They shepherd us across the lands with savvy skill such as is chronicled in Louie Hammer novels. Organized and patient, they wait for the rest of us to “get it.”
Bill leads as you would expect. He rides hard, encourages others and occasionally cajoles free financial advice from Carl. “Buy! Sell! Sell! Buy!”
Gina is too kind to us. Always an encouraging word and an extra effort to make us comfortable. Fresh vegetables and high end cheese await us at every stop.
Warren brought a good set of legs and a better sense of humor. Further, he engineered an upgrade to Sam Adams in our beer cooler. He has certainly carried his weight on the trip.
As for me, I am having the time of my life. A therapy appointment is being scheduled now because I am beginning to regret that we have only one more day of riding!
Yesterday was just a little different from today. After a cold start and a hilly exit from the state capital, we settled into a steady rhythm of mooing at cows, dodging broken armadillos and outrunning red nosed pit bulls. My only real concern came when the turkey vultures decided to fly over us for a period. I was hoping that it was one of the other fellows they thought was about to expire.
Today we left a beautiful spot called high springs and traversed Gainesville courtesy of some incredibly beautiful bike trails. I ruined my record of no flats this morning by recording three in the parking lot. One courtesy of the road and two self inflicted. Peter resolved the situation.
As we left the bike trails and paced ourselves against the trucks pushing 65-70 mph, we worked our way to the world famous Lochloosa Fish Camp. We were greeted by a six foot black snake who didn’t take kindly to having me run over his tail. We were issued the camp’s “flagship” lodge and two premium cabins. These are so special that I was even handed a TV changer with my room key! I was glad we got here early enough that I could figure out how to lock the doors; the dueling banjos are starting to strum!
We may not have a home, but we’re gonna make it! Thanks to the crew, it couldn’t get any better!
“We may not have a home to call our own, but we’re gonna make it.” Performed admirably by B.B. King
Quote of the day:
“The music helped my riding, but losing the burrito was a real game changer.” Jeff Fallon
Carl and Peter, after six weeks, have settled into a comfortable mode of guidance. They shepherd us across the lands with savvy skill such as is chronicled in Louie Hammer novels. Organized and patient, they wait for the rest of us to “get it.”
Bill leads as you would expect. He rides hard, encourages others and occasionally cajoles free financial advice from Carl. “Buy! Sell! Sell! Buy!”
Gina is too kind to us. Always an encouraging word and an extra effort to make us comfortable. Fresh vegetables and high end cheese await us at every stop.
Warren brought a good set of legs and a better sense of humor. Further, he engineered an upgrade to Sam Adams in our beer cooler. He has certainly carried his weight on the trip.
As for me, I am having the time of my life. A therapy appointment is being scheduled now because I am beginning to regret that we have only one more day of riding!
Yesterday was just a little different from today. After a cold start and a hilly exit from the state capital, we settled into a steady rhythm of mooing at cows, dodging broken armadillos and outrunning red nosed pit bulls. My only real concern came when the turkey vultures decided to fly over us for a period. I was hoping that it was one of the other fellows they thought was about to expire.
Today we left a beautiful spot called high springs and traversed Gainesville courtesy of some incredibly beautiful bike trails. I ruined my record of no flats this morning by recording three in the parking lot. One courtesy of the road and two self inflicted. Peter resolved the situation.
As we left the bike trails and paced ourselves against the trucks pushing 65-70 mph, we worked our way to the world famous Lochloosa Fish Camp. We were greeted by a six foot black snake who didn’t take kindly to having me run over his tail. We were issued the camp’s “flagship” lodge and two premium cabins. These are so special that I was even handed a TV changer with my room key! I was glad we got here early enough that I could figure out how to lock the doors; the dueling banjos are starting to strum!
We may not have a home, but we’re gonna make it! Thanks to the crew, it couldn’t get any better!
Friday, November 19, 2010
“I’m a stranger in a strange land.”
Day 46: “I’m a stranger in a strange land.” Look homeward Angel, Thomas Wolfe 1929. Set to music by Leon Russell 1969
Today’s guest blogger is Warren Morris
Day begins somewhere in Florida 7 miles south of Hwy 90 at the Super 8 motel which near as I can tell is best known for its creative suite numbering system. The aches of day 3 are gone and the voice inside my head that says: “Now why did you think bicycling 420 mile across the state of Florida would be a good idea” has disappeared.
We pedaled for 15 miles and then took a break. Then we did this 6 more times. After rest stop 5 the rest of the group visited a famous spring. It had a long name, more than 25 letters. I remember the last 4 were: “chee”. Then we had dinner at the finest diner in High Springs Florida with another group of cyclists. Wow, you meet interesting people when you travel.
Highlights of Day 46: Bicycled past 2 squished snakes, 3 squished raccoons and 14 squished possum. Apparently missed two squished armadillos.
Color Commentary:
Cold start; high 30’s. Not a cloud in the sky. Commandant Conway has us assembled at 7:45am. He runs a tight ship. Horsing around is not permitted. I’m usually the last to arrive, but that is because I’m the only one with 12 pieces of luggage which takes a long time to repack.
Today’s route; 90 miles.
A highpoint of each day is seeing Ms. Vanna and Benny on the horizon at the end of each 15 mile leg, a sign that soon we will rest our weary legs and rear ends and consume mass quantities of block bars, gu packs and water. Ms. Gina drives Ms. Vanna. Aside from being the best looking one in the group, she has elevated the status of the “Vanna Café” from deli fare to haut cuisine. Camembert and fine crackers are now on the lunch table next to the peanut butter and jelly. In addition to her epicurean qualities, Ms. Gina has mastered control of the unwieldy Ms Vanna/Benny behemoth. In just days she is exhibiting trailer maneuvering skills that only people with advanced truck driving degrees can perform. Betsi my dear, I would pay good money to video you backing this rig up a driveway.
Near as I can tell, people in Florida don’t ride bicycles and if they do they’re unaccustomed to seeing people dressed in bicycle outfits and bicycle hats. You get a lot of “What the hell are you doing out heeere on a biiiiiicycle” looks. I do sense an affinity for pick up trucks and swamp music.
Invariably life teaches you lessons. On this trip I’ve learned that dogs love people who bicycle. There appear to be 3 kinds of dogs in Florida, 1) Nice dogs behind fences who bark “Hello, it’s nice to have you in Florida” 2)Mean dogs behind fences who bark “if I could get out of here I’d come and chomp you” and 3) Dogs who wait in the middle of the street for people on bicycles they can come and eat.
I’ve also learned there are 3 kinds of people who drive cars. 1) The group who offers a friendly “toot toot” or smiles and waves as they drive by 2) The group who blasts their horn as they approach from behind and continue as they whiz by, causing you to jump off your bicycle seat and 3) The group that tries to hit you for sport.
Luckily, just about every dog and person we have met was from group 1. What a fabulous adventure this has been.
Today’s guest blogger is Warren Morris
Day begins somewhere in Florida 7 miles south of Hwy 90 at the Super 8 motel which near as I can tell is best known for its creative suite numbering system. The aches of day 3 are gone and the voice inside my head that says: “Now why did you think bicycling 420 mile across the state of Florida would be a good idea” has disappeared.
We pedaled for 15 miles and then took a break. Then we did this 6 more times. After rest stop 5 the rest of the group visited a famous spring. It had a long name, more than 25 letters. I remember the last 4 were: “chee”. Then we had dinner at the finest diner in High Springs Florida with another group of cyclists. Wow, you meet interesting people when you travel.
Highlights of Day 46: Bicycled past 2 squished snakes, 3 squished raccoons and 14 squished possum. Apparently missed two squished armadillos.
Color Commentary:
Cold start; high 30’s. Not a cloud in the sky. Commandant Conway has us assembled at 7:45am. He runs a tight ship. Horsing around is not permitted. I’m usually the last to arrive, but that is because I’m the only one with 12 pieces of luggage which takes a long time to repack.
Today’s route; 90 miles.
A highpoint of each day is seeing Ms. Vanna and Benny on the horizon at the end of each 15 mile leg, a sign that soon we will rest our weary legs and rear ends and consume mass quantities of block bars, gu packs and water. Ms. Gina drives Ms. Vanna. Aside from being the best looking one in the group, she has elevated the status of the “Vanna Café” from deli fare to haut cuisine. Camembert and fine crackers are now on the lunch table next to the peanut butter and jelly. In addition to her epicurean qualities, Ms. Gina has mastered control of the unwieldy Ms Vanna/Benny behemoth. In just days she is exhibiting trailer maneuvering skills that only people with advanced truck driving degrees can perform. Betsi my dear, I would pay good money to video you backing this rig up a driveway.
Near as I can tell, people in Florida don’t ride bicycles and if they do they’re unaccustomed to seeing people dressed in bicycle outfits and bicycle hats. You get a lot of “What the hell are you doing out heeere on a biiiiiicycle” looks. I do sense an affinity for pick up trucks and swamp music.
Invariably life teaches you lessons. On this trip I’ve learned that dogs love people who bicycle. There appear to be 3 kinds of dogs in Florida, 1) Nice dogs behind fences who bark “Hello, it’s nice to have you in Florida” 2)Mean dogs behind fences who bark “if I could get out of here I’d come and chomp you” and 3) Dogs who wait in the middle of the street for people on bicycles they can come and eat.
I’ve also learned there are 3 kinds of people who drive cars. 1) The group who offers a friendly “toot toot” or smiles and waves as they drive by 2) The group who blasts their horn as they approach from behind and continue as they whiz by, causing you to jump off your bicycle seat and 3) The group that tries to hit you for sport.
Luckily, just about every dog and person we have met was from group 1. What a fabulous adventure this has been.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)