Bicycle Trip People
On my recent bicycle journey from Kansas to Annapolis, I met quite a few really interesting folks. I’m doing a series of posts on these wonderful and interesting people, and this is an installment in that series. While there are others I met along the way as well, these are the ones who I was able to spend enough time with to get a feel for their story.
Mike and Wei in Warrensburg
Day 2 of my cycling adventure from Kansas to Annapolis has me up before dawn, headed east on Highway 68. A headwind develops early, and builds through the day. Not a straight headwind, but a SE wind that quarters into my face.
When I stop for something to eat in Louisburg, I’m more than a little disappointed with the measly 30+ miles that I’ve ridden so far this morning. At a little over 50 miles, after some wonderful riding on some secondary roads that are deserted, I’m greeted with a neat “old town†feel in the town of Harrisonville, MO. I stop in a little c-store, and enjoy a visit with a guy and a gal who work there. I check my bearings with them regarding the best way to get to Warrensburg from here, and they seem baffled by the idea that there’s any way to get there other than going up to highway 50 and across. They’re not used to someone who’s looking for a way to avoid traffic.
Heading out of town, I’m still enjoying deserted secondary roads for quite a while, before ending up on gravel. Gravel can be fun if you’re on a bike made for gravel. My road bike isn’t, so it’s a little dicy on my narrow tires. I do turn north a few times and feel the wind behind me, but the gravel prevents me from using the wind to my advantage.
After 7 or 8 hours on the road, I roll into Warrensburg. I’m surprised at my good overall time for the day, considering the wind, and feel quite strong over the last several miles. Of course, I have mostly a tailwind over the last several miles, and a tailwind makes a cyclist feel like superman.
Warrensburg is a college town, with an “old town†downtown feel to it. I notice a bike shop, and decide to stop for a little adjusting. Of course, I could take the time to do the adjustments myself when the day is over, but I like giving business to a local bike shop, and I always like the company of someone who likes to talk about bikes.
I wheel my bicycle into Freeride Bike and Skate shop, and wander back toward the shop area, where the mechanic is working on a bike. I love that about small local bike shops – there’s usually just a single employee in the store, who is both the mechanic and the sales clerk. They’re rarely good at both, so I need to size up whether this fella is mostly sales clerk or mostly mechanic.
The fact that he is pretty much ignoring me as I walk my bike back that way gives me a nice warm feeling – mostly mechanic – I like that…
But the other two fella’s back there with him come right out to greet me and chat. “You ridin’ your bike across the country?â€, one of them asks.
A bit surprised, I say yes, that I am. Sure I have a little pack on the back of my bike, but it’s small, and just because I’m touring, why do they guess that?
We chat, and it turns out these two fellas are also riding their bike across the country. They’re doing it all in one summer, and we just happen to cross paths here in Warrensburg.
Cool.
We exchange stories about routes and gear. I’ll come to learn by the end of this trip that this is what cross-country cyclists always want to talk with each other about first – routes and gear. Which route did you take across the desert southwest? Where did you cross the divide? What route are you planning over the Appalachians? Where will you end up? Is this all your gear? Really?
Mike and Wei are from “out eastâ€. One is from New York City, and the other from somewhere else out east, but I can’t remember where. They’re both young fellas – probably in their 20‘s. While Wei has ridden a good bit in his life, Mike has really never ridden a bike much at all. The bike he’s riding is the first bike he’s ever owned. He shipped it out to CA when he bought it, packed his gear on it, and learned to ride.
Really. At least this is the story he tells, and life is all about collecting good stories, right? I like this one, so I’m hangin’ on to it.
Can you imagine such a thing? Strapping touring gear on a bike, climbing on, and learning to ride? I train EXTENSIVELY to do these long rides, and worry endlessly about whether I’m at a high enough level of fitness, or whether I’m calloused enough in the nether regions to avoid saddle sores. This young punk just climbs on a new bike – when he’s never ridden before – and starts riding across the country!
The gall.
Now, in order to ease the damage to my fragile ego, I will point out that they were riding 40 or 50 miles a day, which is pretty typical for cross-country touring, but they also had a lot more gear than I did. I should leave that last part out just to reduce the damage to that fragile ego…
Turns out Mike did struggle a bit with saddle sores, and did suffer quite a bit gaining the fitness he needed. But, in the end, the invincible spirit and recuperative abilities of youth carried the day, and he and I meet halfway across the country.
That takes a lot of courage – striking out on an adventure so raw like Mike did. Oh sure, there’ll be some who might use words like silly or dumb rather than courageous, and while there’s surely truth in those adjectives, there’s also truth in the need for courage to do what Mike did. Like the old Apple commercial said, the impossible can only be done by those who don’t know it’s impossible. It probably didn’t say exactly that, but something close…
Quincy is the fella’s name who’s manning the shop and fixing Mike’s bike. When Quincy is done with Mike’s bike, he does my few adjustments, and we all stand around and jaw for a while. Eventually, I bid Quincy, Wei, and Mike goodbye, find my motel, and enjoy a nice steak dinner. The only thing I lack with my steak is someone to share a drink with, to toast the wonderful invincible spirit and recuperative abilities of youth, and to people optimistic enough to ignore the boundaries of common sense and impossibilities.
