Berea and beyond

Sweet road. Made me gasp, seriously.
Jailer?
We seem to be lost. Ended up riding an extra 19 miles. Hardcore.
Yesterday. Dog on 4-wheeler- nice balance. He was funny as hail. And nice, too.

So yesterday we rolled into Berea, and now I'm in. I dunno, where am I. I'm at a library at a computer with a keyboard that has one of those tiny little backspace keys and it REALLY RUINING MY DAY, MANN. We're in Harrisburg, KY.

Just got an e-mail from a concerned party that mentioned that I prolly shouldn't trash talk on KY so much. I'd just like to say that I'm probably one of the least hateful haters in our party of KY hating cyclists, and I must also say that today I thoroughly revised my opinion of KY after an absolutely beautiful day of rolling countryside roads.

But first, let me tell you about my WORST DAY OF CYCLING IN THE HISTORY OF EVER.

It all started the night before, when we set up camp for Booneville. My opinion of KY was immediately elevated from a 2 to a 5 after discovering that the local baptist church had set up an awesome little hangout for bikers with a shower and a shelter and a portapoty and lots of sweet fake flowers. I had a healthy dinner of every food within sight, and supplemented it with the most delicious quart of mint chocolate chip ice cream I've ever had, mixed with the most delicious orange I've ever had. I ate wayyyyyy tooooo muchhhhhh.

I woke up the next morning at 6, and immediately started feeling sick in the stomach. Not too sick to eat a hearty oatmeal n raisins breakfast. Well I kept feeling more nautious. I decided I'd stick with the slower peoples and take it easy. So took care of business and went to sleep. I woke up 20 minutes later, people almost ready to go, looked around, and threw up my breakfast- quite violently, I might add- right next to the stairs. I immediately felt awesome. I cleaned up my mess, and we hit the road.

10 miles later I felt like complete garbage again. I was fighting nasuea, I felt like I'd been run over a car several times over, and I still had 50 miles to go. My arms hurt to hold up the bike, my fingers hurt to click the shifters, and forget about me legs.

Mile 15: chug some pepto bismol (for those of you who aren't aware, I don't do drugs, I never take pills, this is drastic).

Mile 20: Pepto bismol didn't help, ride up some of the steepest hills we've messed with yet.

Mile 30: Break for lunch on side of backcountry road. I went off, relieved myself, and fell asleep next to my bike in a ditch on the side of the road. Woke up, rode back up the hill to meet the guys, fell asleep again, helmet and sunglasses on.

I woke up feeling only mild nausea. I still couldn't eat. After a few miles, I realized it was far from over. My body felt more destroyed than ever. My mind was barely there. It took every bit of energy and concentration just to keep on pedaling, knowing there were hours more to follow. The downhills were only a mild relief, as I felt so weak that controling the bike down the hill was a challenge. After a while, it actually hurt more to coast than it did to pedal, so I continued cranking even when I had no need to.

For the last 20 miles, I ended up putting my iPod in one ear, listening to the Smashing Pumpkins while imagining various Disney cartoons playing the instruments. Daffy duck was on vocals, that crazy cat was rocking lead guitar, and that angry pig with the gun was banging on the drums. I couldn't come up with any other characters at the time. Yes, I was messed up.

We finally rolled into Berea, and it was like we were in another universe. It was amazing. Businesses, schoolbuidings, parks, congestion, Wal-mart. The library was sweet. I was in a daze. I laid on the sidewalk; indifferent, while the group debated places to sleep. Us boys ended up sleeping behind the library in a sweet little shady cove. The girls went the route of luxury and relaxed in the campground down the road. I munched on a little off-brand FrostedMini-wheats, chugged some water, sluggishly set up the tent and stuff, and passed out by 8.

Worst day of riding. Ever.

The day after the worst day of riding. Ever.

I woke up at 8. 12 hours of sleep. Yesssssssssss.

We rolled at 9 or 9:30 or something. I didn't care much, I was in relaxation mode. If you ask some, it was a tortuous day of getting lost , grinding a bajillion rolling hills, and getting lost. If you ask me, it was completely perfect. Other than my chafed sitting implement.

Beautiful farmland, blue grass, very little traffic or wind, fast rolling hills, fluffy white clouds (lots of whales, lobsters, clown faces, upside down rabbits), and one of the most picturesque shady little roads I've seen yet. it war sooooooooo greeeeeennnn.

Well anyways, library close, yet again. Me go now.

Steven
05-09-08