a note from my parents...

For all of you who have supported Carrie on her “one long ride” (and I hope that remains ONE...singular...that another odyssey is not planned), we invite you to a homecoming party. Please join us on Monday, September 3 from 7-9pm. We’ll have desserts, Gatorade and toasts...the bottles of Red Bicyclette wine are already being chilled!

We figured that Labor Day marks the end of summer and this trip has certainly been laborious all summer! The celebration is at the Badanes house- 4342 Ashley Oaks; Cincinnati....All are welcome!

Anne and Harry

the end of I-80

I feel OK about posting an entry in reference to this weeks riding conditions as we aren't headed back onto the interstate for the rest of the ride. Correct, we have been on the shoulder of a 4-6 lane interstate for the entirety of Nevada, or - 400 lonely miles. In short, I have felt totally deprived of civilization. So, yesterday with about 15 miles left, I shouted (to no one in particular) - "would it be too much to ask for the mountains to part and for a sprawling metropolis to appear before me?" Someone was listening because ten short miles later, the entire city of Sparks, Nevada (which, previous to this trip I had never heard of) was laid out before me in the mountain valley.

The interstate at this point is anything but safe. First of all, the shoulder is covered with some sort of shrapnel. If I had a nickel for every blown-up steel-belted tire I have seen this week, I wouldn't need to start looking for a job until 2008. These steel-belted tires are especially dangerous because they are not only a road hazard, but they also deposit these tiny splinters of metal into your supposedly impervious tires. These splinters cause what are known as "slow leaks" and you only realize your tire is flat after a long break off the bike. Furthermore, here was actually a portion where the shoulder was closed and we were traveling in the right lane with the other "slow traffic." Needless to say, I was so thankful when I saw our exit (which was preceded by a "Cyclists Must Exit" sign). Off the exit, Carys and I decided to do a bit of exploring. We found a 7-11 where we had some version of a Delirium Gatorade.

After 7-11, we hopped back on our bikes, only to discover that I had one of those pesky slow leaks. Calculating that we were probably only about two miles from our host location, Carys suggested that instead of fighting to replace the tube, we should walk. So, I started walking my bike along another fairly busy road. After about a mile, Carys saw a shopping cart in the parking lot next to the road and immediately suggested that we try out the whole "side car" thing. When I refused, she jumped in herself. I put my bike on top of the cart and hopped on her bike, pulling -- until we met back up with the main road.

Today was our very last build day, and I was thrilled when I heard that the site had accommodated a group of 120 last week. After an organizational meeting, a few of us were put to work securing the STYROFOAM walls. Apparently, they put these big pieces of Styrofoam up and then pour concrete inside of it, providing both strength and insulation. Albeit perplexed, I was thrilled to have a job to do.

Now back at the YMCA, we have sort of taken over. There isn't much space for us so we have, like usual, draped ourselves over every available square inch of space. Right now, I am sitting in a dingy hall way off of the maintenance room where only minutes ago. Last night, people refused to sleep in the gym on account of rodents, one of which crawled in and out of Carys' shorts a few moments ago.

After today we have only six more ride days. Thank you all for all your support: letters, wall posts, emails... it is fun to know that there are actually people out there reading this.

the local park

Like I have said before, we usually sleep in churches, high schools, RV parks, campsites...

So, yesterday, as I rode into Battle Mountain, NV - I took notice of the fact that we passed up both a church and an RV park for a small shady green piece of land in the middle of town. Kids and families were playing on the swing sets and Bike and Builders were laying on their thermarests on the grass. I couldn't help but laugh. I am not even sure that we got permission to stay there; so all night I expected the cops or the mayor to come and kick us out.

As evening rolled around, we started looking around for places to go to the bathroom and brush our teeth. I asked one leader what we were supposed to do and she pointed me across the street: to a CASINO! Perplexed, I asked if we were supposed to simply waltz into the casino with our toiletries. Equally perplexed, she responded "of course."

Oh, I forgot to mention that we were actually less than 50 feet from train tracks. The train was scheduled to run every 45 minutes, all night. If you can imagine, at this point, I am already laughing at how absolutely ridiculous this host location is. As if the soccer practice wasn't enough, these local kids show up for some type of dance lesson in the park pavilion. Hispanic music blaring, casino lights glaring, trains rolling by and 31 of us, and our stuff draped all over the city park.

There isn't much to do in Battle Mountain, and we had dinner at 5, so when the sun started to set, we decided it was time to turn in. I have made my philosophy on sleeping outside pretty clear, and so I headed towards the tent I had set up earlier in the day. I have to say that we did an excellent job with the tent. It was taut, fly was perfect, everything staked down...beautiful. I couldn't help but smile to myself as I passed the rider who argues that it is always better to sleep under the stars. Additionally, after some debate, Carys and I put our bags into the van. I couldn't imagine it raining in a place this dry, but we had attracted a lot of attention in town, and I didn't know who would be hanging around the park after hours.

9:30 PM: all five of us were zipped into our tent, listening to the train screech by. I don't know how it happened, but eventually we all fell asleep.

4:07 AM: Sprinklers in the park go off. We awake to strings of expletives and squeals of laughter and the spray of water against our beautiful and secure tent. I couldn't help but laugh at the idea that the Israeli soldier was in the middle of the sprinkler bedlam.

We opened the window of the tent to see everyone running around gathering their sleeping bags, thermarests and loose items all while dodging the sprays of about 19 different sprinklers. Then, over all of the noise, bells sounded and the train came heaving and whistling right through the park.

I laughed myself to sleep, and laughed when I woke up in the morning, totally dry and at least partially rested. I also laughed when I talked with the soldier who adamantly (and ridiculously) demanded that sleeping outside was still far better than sleeping in a tent.

the bazaar

When we aren't staying in churches or high schools, we usually camp out somewhere. Wells, Nevada falls into that category. Wells is home to two RV parks, a Burger King and a brothel. Signs for McDonald's aren't labeled with miles, but with time. One read, "McDonald's, turn right in one hour." This is the middle of nowhere. And we arrived here after a long day of sweep. So long in fact, that I actually fell asleep on the side of the interstate

After the scorpion incident, I decided not to mess around and I pitched a tent right away. Several others decided to sleep on the grass. Please note, we weren't in the middle of the woods or anything, our camp site was bordered on two sides by parking lots, one by the main road, and one with another RV. Basically, we set up camp on the front lawn of the RV camp. It wasn't just us, and all of our bikes, and luggage, and food on the site, but it was also laundry day, which meant that we had 90 chamois shorts hanging dry on fences, trees, bushes and cars.

Dinner was especially tasty. Hose-water macaroni and cheese. It took all of two seconds to realize we were going to have to rummage through all of the bins in the trailer for some seasoning.

Then, perhaps the Bike and Build idea that I am most proud of: the Clif Bar Bazaar. As you might be able to tell, our diets aren't exactly ideal. So, in order to mix things up a little bit, we all brought our trade-able goods and started bartering. I made out like a bandit - I traded a Luna bar, a pack of gum, four beef sticks and six MoJo Fruit and Nut Bars for a candy bar, patch kit, someone else to wash my dinner dishes and, the big one, someone else to ride sweep (riding behind all the riders) the next day.