2. Oh Lordy, It’s a Big Ride

Oh Lordy, it’s a big ride.

From Wednesday of Week One

I’m now happily ensconced in a Best Western in Kennewick, WA and happy to tell the tale (there’s a “tail” story that’s part of the tale). This is our first day off and one of the things I know for sure is that I’m going to be looking for motels all across the country. Part is for pure comfort; the other part is that contrary to what I had been told, there is no internet access from the campsites except through the GTE communications system (that’s how you can send me e-mail at bigrider@gte.net {subject: Sharon Blair 1913}), and that is both slow, limited and printed out for riders to pick up and read. And you know me, I love to connect, but I have now officially given it up as something to be even slightly concerned about because there is nothing I can do about it. GTE is having some major problems with communications. The e-mail isn’t really important. What is are the cell phones that don’t work for the crew. And this is crucial on the road as they make the route safe and as you’ll see later, try to get struggling and hurt riders to camp or elsewhere. They’re working on it.

The logistics of the ride are settling down. Probably faster than under normal circumstances because of the terror of the first day. There’s nothing like getting a staff and understaffed volunteer crew up to speed than the near misses we had on Monday. We left Seattle just fine and dandy — 800 or so riders rather than the 1000 expected (1200 had signed up), but probably due mostly to the difficulty of raising the pledges (by the way, thanks to you, I have over $10,000!!!!!!!!!!!!), there are fewer riders (reportedly, they are under-crewed too with around 130 instead of the constant 200 “needed.”) At any rate, the morning was fine; lunch was glorious in a beautiful town called Snoqualmie, and then the trouble began as we began a 15 or so mile climb up to the top of something or other. This was made more complicated by the rain that started. It was difficult (actually really hard) but really no big deal until the top and just before our last pit stop when the rain started coming down harder and the temperature dropped in about 15 minutes by about 15 degrees to the high 20s. Fifteen minutes later, I was freezing, literally shaking on my bike and starting to make stupid decisions and unable to apply my brakes. I spent the next hour huddled under a Mylar blanket with a guy name Brian from Flint (on strike from GM) in a shed (roof, no walls) for some telephone equipment. A guy who works for the DOT magically stopped and gave us a ride to camp 15 miles away. He was wonderful. A biker who would have loved to be making the ride. Even took our wheels off and put our bikes in the back of his sports vehicle. Our hands wouldn’t really move.

Brian and I were lucky. Over 400 of the riders had to be “sagged,” or carried into camp. Many were tossed in hot water to stop the hypothermia. At least two were hospitalized. Reportedly, eight left the ride that night.

Talk about baptism by fire. Everything was wet. Camp was set up in the remains of the rain (of course, it cleared by around 7 pm!!!) and we were all walking around looking like bomb victims. It was scary. Uncomfortable yes, but really really scary.

The next day was glorious. A mere 90 miles to Yakima through one of the prettiest places I’ve seen on earth — Yakima Canyon. A tailwind. Bee-ut-ti-ful.

Yesterday was dicey but only in the afternoon. As we rode 86 miles, most of it through the Hanford Nuclear Reservation and honest to goodness desert, we were blown to smithereens by big time wind from the west. At times, I was barely moving. And it was beaming sun (lots of number 45 used, still burned a bit). It was a long long difficult ride. For me, the problem was the heat, which turned to sweat, which turned to blisters on my butt. I had trained and trained and had to use Bag Balm along the way, but never honest to god blisters. (my friend Bill Dale who’s on the crew just rode his motorcycle to the pharmacy and got me Solarcaine spray and New Skin and perhaps with these pharmaceutical aids plus the lambswool seat Bunny brought me to Miami, I’ll make it through tomorrow’s day. At one point yesterday, I literally got behind some tumbleweeds (the only ones I could find not tumbling, took off my biking pants and panties and put on dry shorts). I wasn’t fooling anybody, but frankly, nobody cares.

Oh boy.

Am I glad I’m doing this? Yes. Has it been awful at times? Yes. The thing I’m personally glad about is Monday, that is, for someone as competitive and obsessed as I am to actually stop when I shouldn’t have gone on is both smart and a good dose of humility. It’s good to get that scared that soon when there are in fact real dangers.

The food service is great. Big kitchen trucks and dining tent. The catering company started doing this (and still does) at big fires where the crew has to be fed and rested and showered. The shower trucks seemingly have an endless supply of hot water. And there’s always a story there. Yesterday morning I brushed my teeth and put on my obligatory eye makeup next to a guy shaving. He has one leg. Uses crutches around camp. Bill Dale tells me he has a pedal on only one side of his bike. Talk about difficult.

So it’s hard to complain about butt blisters, but hey, it’s my bottom, and it’s in dire shape, but it will get better. In the meantime, I’m seeing some great country and some truly weird stuff and meeting some nice people, including a young man and woman who lived together and trained together until two weeks ago when they broke up. But they’re still on the ride. There was some tension between them at lunch yesterday over a sandwich!!!!!!

I treasure your calls to 1-800-683-1899 voice mail 1745 and have enjoyed the postcards (e-mail) some of you have sent.

Yes, I’m having a good time. If I hadn’t done this I would never have known that the Tri Cities Airport (Kennewick, Richland, Pasco) was the first commercial airport west of the Mississippi).