Moving a little faster

I'm changing my name to Theodore Impetus Maximus Moto Yeaster. Or Tim for short. Just kidding, but now you know what goes through my head when I'm not busy thinking about world politics, the hunger crisis, and WHAT THE HELL AM I GOING TO DO WITH MY LIFE (!?!?!?!?).

So. It's been a little while since the last time I've written anything here, been plenty busy with the farming season. Still though; I feel a nagging anxiety to be on the move. I don't know why there is always a draw to the "other side of the fence", I do know a diversified diet is a healthy one. And with that "Phil-osophy" in mind I recently purchased a vintage 1978 Honda CX500 and have been taking weekend trips to find some greener grass.

These pictures are from the fourth of July holiday. With a bosom full of patriotism and a machine built to flaunt freedom I rolled to our nations capitol to celebrate Independence. I ended up taking the Blue Ridge Parkway through most of Virginia. At the north end of the parkway is Shenandoah National Park. With a mere ten dollar fee I gained access to one of the more famous and stunningly beautiful ridgeway roads in the country. The park's history and efforts toward preservation have kept the land wild and full of life. I saw no less than three black bears while I moto'd through. The count was at four. Closer inspection revealed I had confused a dazed, dingy, hairy, and grumpy thru-hiker for a beast. I'm sure in certain circles they are one in the same. The Appalachian Trail parallels the parkway and crosses the road a few times in the park.

When I got to Washington D.C. the city was booming and bustling with the holiday crowd. I strolled among the oaks planted around the national mall, gave Michelle Obama some gardening tips, witnessed a parade, and sat awestruck by exploding balls of light in the sky. The traffic after the fireworks was fun with the right perspective. I chatted with a few folks about my ride and laughed at everyone else's increasing frustration level. What do you expect when four million people all try to leave at the same time? I finally made it out of the gridlock an hour and a half later.

This latest installment in my travelogue I consider a success. I made it home tired and a bit sunburnt; but overall, safe. It's good to know how my thirty two year old bike will hold up on a 1,400 mile jaunt. I think my next one will be toward Michigan to ride along the lake and the Canadian border. Until then, Cheers!

Where am I now????

3000 miles, all I found was a bunch of rocks

Hello again to everyone checking in on me. My apologies for not keeping up with the blog as often as I have been. I may however be able to offer you the next few stories as somewhat of an explanation for  my blog hiatus. And trust me, I've stayed plenty busy the for the last month or so.

It all started with a hurricane. I'd been making good time and progress across the flatland just off of the coast and keeping my morale high by taking in all of the sights. I stopped at Asateague Island  (off the coast of Maryland) and saw wild ponies and cape deer wandering everywhere. The state park side of the island was closed for the season, so I had the entire eastern shoreline to myself. It was a full moon night and taking a walk around the shore and dunes with a few of the horses was amazing. The next morning I was excited to push on so I left with a broad smile pasted to my face.

A few days later I made it to the north side of the Chesapeake Bay bridge. The authorities won't allow bikes to ride across the 21 mile span therefore I was forced to wait for arrangements to be made for a truck ride to Norfolk. Coincidentally I was born there on the naval base, so for the second time on my trip I had the feeling of coming home. I couldn't get a lift on the day I arrived and was told to try again the next day. That night a tropical storm moved in and dumped five days worth of rain and 80 mph winds right onto my head. I swear five days alone in a single man ultralight tent listening to the howling winds rip at the tie downs will drive anyone a little batty. I read all the books I had with me, then read them again, then played my guitar, then tried to sleep, then tried to eat. I couldn't keep a flame on my stove for the life of me so my menu was reduced to peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and soupy oatmeal. I left my sanctuary and yelled into the gusts to vent my frustration a bit, I ended up laughing myself sore and then slept like a rock. When I woke up the sun was shining and felt and overwhelming sense of accomplishment for having braved the storm in a nylon tube tent.

After making it through Norfolk and into North Carolina the flatland gave way to mountains and there was nothing else. One after the other they rolled under my tires and eventually I made it to the Blue Ridge and Great Smokey Mountains. I was gaining elevation every hill I conquered along the way so it was nice to see what I'd been doing all the work for. The best payoff for sweating out the last few hundred miles came and went quickly, but it was totally worth it. 

The day I was set to cross into Georgia started out like the others, I did about 27 milesof  climbing and decided to take lunch at a random plot of land. When I started out again I didn't have to pedal for long, about a half mile down the road came a sign that warned of a 10% downgrade for the next eight miles with hairpin switchback turns the whole way. I just about melted, I was in heaven. I felt like I was racing a motorcycle around a track, the road was going by at 50 mph. The cars on the road couldn't take the turns nearly as fast as I could, and couldn't figure out just what in the hell I was doing at those speeds with a guitar on the back of my rig. So I made it down the mountain safely and when I hit the flatland I entered Georgia, It was a blissful moment.

A few days later I ended up at Rocktown in LaFayette, GA. This was my goal all along for the winter, and I hit 3000 miles. So you can imagine I was stoked to be there and have rocks to climb and be done with the pedaling for a while. But alas, it was getting cold and there wasn't much of a chance to climb in between snow and sleet storms. So a friend of mine was able to take some time off work and come down south to rescue me from boredom. It didn't take much to convince me to ride back with him to Athens, OH...where I had started from.

So now for the third time on my trip I had that homecoming feeling as we crossed into Athens County. My friends are here, my dog is here, I am here. Back where I stared isn't so bad after four months of camping out. Heat, showers, food, and company all make it worth coming back. For now this is where I'll be, however I plan on making some moves in the spring. Possibly continuing my trek, but heading west. Doing the math I'm sure 3000 miles towards the setting sun will plop me in the redwood forests I've only read about. Anything is possible.

The Jersey Shorline

Hello again everyone and happy belated Halloween! I've been roaming around lower New York and main state New Jersey for the last week and have finally made it to the coast. I'm currently in Sea Isle City on my way to the southernmost tip of the state to take a ferry into Delaware. The best part about the last week has been the terrain. After I made it through Princeton, NJ ( full of ivy league snobbery ) the hills disappeared and I found myself in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. The Pine Barrens area of the state consisted of nothing more than trees and sand, there weren't even houses for thirty miles at a time. Luckily it was flat and the wind was held back by the treeline, so despite the rain ( constant for the last six days ) I made good time. Though there wasn't much to catch my eye in terms of scenery the desert like flatness made up for it.

I should tell you though about the mountains in north NJ and the fauna they support. My first day in the state I petered out around Wawayaset State Park and pitched my camp far off of the road near a stream. I was thankful to be away from the road noise for a change and I let the rain and crickets sing me to sleep. It was a long restful sleep, the kind you get on a Saturday after a long work week. When I awoke the rain had stopped long enough for me to feel as though I'd make some good progress for the day. I was going about my "morning business" when a LARGE black blob caught my attention. You guessed it, it was a bear. It wasn't too close, though it was close enough to be uncomfortable given my defenseless position. We stared at each other for a moment, then he turned his attention back to fording the stream. I said jokingly " Go on, it's not that cold! " And with that he splashed his way across. I was relieved, but the experience wasn't over. Three minutes later two more bears came marching through my spot. This couple seemed smaller than the last one and I found myself in awe of their silent gracefulness ( now that my pants were up ). We acknowledged each others presence but neither I or the pair seemed startled and I truly felt I was accepted as a part of their element. The contrast of black fur on gold leaves is something I'll remember forever. Then, as quietly as the came in, they went. And after I packed my things up so did I.

More recently I took in the beauty of a saltwater marsh along the Atlantic. It was the first I had ever seen. I was interested to see the way the water parted the grass and teemed with fish. The minnows swam along in a continuous ribbon through the shallows and the sand cranes dabbled their way around looking for a meal. With the sun setting underneath the cloud base it was a spectacular sight. And then later in the darkness the horizon was lit by the skyline of Atlantic City, equally as stunning. The rain had finally stopped and the clouds were being pushed out by a strong northern wind. I felt the promise of a clear day underneath the briskness of the gusts.

I was right. The next morning I rose with the sun and went back to the shore to soak in it's warmth. I was surprised when I got there, everything was gone. The birds, fish, and grass had all vanished. The tide had come in while I was sleeping and covered everything. So I went swimming, with so much water around what else was there to do. I guess I was a little excited to see the sun for the first time in ten days.

I unexpectedly needed to replace my rear tire ( it looked like the surface of the moon ) and was lucky to find a bike shop that had what I needed. The store was huge, the biggest I'd ever seen. As it turns out, they sell merchandise online all over the world and I had stumbled into the main storefront. The mechanics were very friendly and even gave me two free tubes. I got some local beta about the road ahead and then the owner ferried me through the city in his Mercedes station wagon. Cruisin' the city in style! I felt like I was in a rocket ship.

All is well here and I'm glad my pace has slowed enough for me to " take it all in. " The stories I've shared would surely have never occurred if I was still gunning for Horse Pens. Oh, and I hit 2000 miles about three days ago and to celebrate I ate an entire pint of Ben & Jerry's, smores if you'd care to know. That's all I've got for now, thanks for checking in. I'll be seein' ya!

P.S.-Jaime, I'm saddened to hear about your wife's untimely passing. I wish for the sun to shine on you and keep you warm with the memory of the good things you've known. Your wife was a gem of a person and I'm glad I had the chance to meet her.

Little Rock City not Horse Pens 40

So, I've decided after pushing through the first five hundred mile week that to keep up the pace I'd need more than just willpower. I'm sure I'd have to call upon the powers that be to hold back the weather and give me the strength to endure such a grueling pace. I wasn't allowing myself adequate rest periods during the day, nor was I taking any days off. I'm sure if I'd have continued you would've seen merely a shadow of the man you used to know, if I even made it there. Now I plan on meeting you all at Little Rock City instead.

The mileage I mentioned before brought me to the doorstep of New York City. Having decided to take some time off and recover from the last push all I needed to do was find lodging. Before my legs could even cool down the rumble of a Harley Davidson was drawing my attention. The steel horse's pilot was a strong accented Cuban man with a parrot on his shoulder as co-pilot ( not kidding ). Before introductions he complimented me on my bike setup and aggressively asked where I was staying. When I told him I hadn't a clue his response was: "You got it,need a shower? You got it, food? You got it!" In a thick New York / Cuban tongue. And that was it, I followed Carlos back to his pad overlooking the Hudson River and sprawled my things out in my own bedroom. I spent the next few days getting to know him and his seven birds ( four parakeets, two parrots, and a macaw ).

Of course I went into the city. I spent all the money I had with me every time I went. There are too many things to tell you about, but I can sum it all up by saying WOW. It was huge, and noisy, and dirty, and in a strange way beautiful. I met up with my buddy Mills and had a blast getting tanked then roaming all over the south side via taxi. I wandered around Times Square at peak hour on a Friday afternoon. Took subways and trains in and out of the city. All in all it was a great experience. And strangely enough now that I'm out and back on the road I miss it. I wish I could spend more time there but in this case money buys time, and I'm trying to be conservative.

I want to say thank you to Mills and Carlos for helping me have a great time in the 'Big Apple'. I'm sure that I would've just passed it by if you hadn't have extended your helping hand. I know for a fact I will return, for as much as I saw there's alot more to be seen. Next time though I'll come with a bigger budget.

Knocking out the miles !

Hello again to all of ya'll. I've been back on the road after Acadia for about four days now pushing headlong into a headwind. At times the wind has been strong enough to bring my morale and forward progression to all time lows. But never fear! Revival is merely a thought away. My main motivation now is seeing the A-town crew at Horse Pens 40 in Alabama and nip'n on a jar of shine around the campfire. Ah, the memories that are conjured up doing exactly that...I miss you guys. I'm dead set on making it there though it requires 1600 miles worth of pedaling in 25 days, yikes. I've afforded myself five days of rest as long as I can complete eighty miles a day. So do an interpretive dance for me to ward off the rain and cast out the wind and I'll do my best to keep up the pace. ( And when I see you we'll have a "interpretive dance-off", and yes the winner gets a prize.) I think my favorite and most repeated line I've heard so far has been, "Your heading south? Don't worry it's all downhill." Which leaves me hopeful that eventually I will find the proof of this widespread theory, though I haven't had any luck yet.
While out on the road today riding south on U.S. Highway 1 I bumped into a fellow rider, a local to the area. He not only showed me a shortcut bike path which cut out a major portion of city traffic, but also put me up for the night in an apartment adjoining his house just outside of Portland, Maine. The property is beautiful and has a seventeenth century farm feel with the history to go along with it. It's bound to rain tonight and tomorrow morning so I'll be sure to enjoy sleeping in a bed for a change. Also today I discovered that I'd cracked a weld loose on my bike frame. A trip to an auto-body shop, some MiG welding, small talk, and ten dollars later put me back in business. Sometimes it pays off to have a steel frame bike ( take that you ultra light bike nuts ).

Oh and don't get too excited, I did not get another camera. You're lucky I've got a backlog of photos that haven't been seen yet. Although they're a little generic I think it adds to the verbal flavor of the blog to keep posting them. I like the idea of getting a new camera contributed for the duration of my adventure ( stroking my beard ) now where would I get one of those...

The story of David

I would like to tell you the story of David Phillip McKinley. David was 19 years old and anxious to be on his own. One day he had the notion to leave the comforts of his hometown and travel abroad. His travels eventually led him to Acadia National Park, a place filled with beautiful ocean side cliffs and stunning vistas. Impressed with the overall impact of such an awesome wilderness preserve he set out to do his best at having a fulfilling experience and began to check off " to do's " on his list. Climb a mountain and post up base camp, check. Watch the sunrise as one of the first to do so in the United States, check. Have invigorating night hikes along steep trails, check. It seemed David was doing just fine on his trip, but one item on the list nagged at him. Climbing the rocks in the morning along the crashing shoreline.

The morning of October third was the day, it had to be. The full moon was only one evening away which left the entire island a virtual playground both night and day. After such a quiet and brisk night it made sense to head out to the cliffs at dawn to soak in the warmth of a new day. When David reached the shoreline the sun was in full force and so was the surf. He traversed along the rocks and admired the beauty of the stagnant pools of seawater that were so abundant with life. Most of the 'climbing' he was doing would prove to be some of the most memorable and fun of his life. He breathed in the salty spray and danced with the rising tide climbing fluidly and without contemplation. This truly would be a day worth noting in his journal, if he were able to.

As the young explorer flirted with the foaming ocean crust he neglected to realize that just below it's surface were the rip tides of despair. He had heard stories of others being swept off the rocks and disappearing, but surely this couldn't happen to him. On a day like today it seems impossible to fathom such a cruel demise. He left behind his fear and continued on underneath a outcropping which placed him completely exposed above the depths. Because there could be no fault in his perceived invincibility he never once turned around to notice the swell racing toward him. In the next few seconds all of his previously nullified doubts would become terribly real.

The swell of the rising tide pulled David from the rock with a force that cannot be reckoned with. He kicked and scraped at the rock face he'd just been ripped from with wild eyed frenzy. His body was being churned and slammed into the rocks by the same water he thought was harmless. Over and over again he would claw at the nothingness of a shear cliff face with no success. His efforts never ceased, however his thoughts turned to the people he loved who would have no idea what had happened to him. He began to wish he had the chance to tell them all how much of an impact on his life they've made. He felt sorry for having forsaken such love to be selfishly trekking around solo. He began to wish there was someone there to save him. No one ever came.

I was fortunate enough to make it out of the water. It was a hell of an experience. David never made it, I found the plaque commemorating his existence near where mine had almost ended. I want you all to know I'm fine, just a little banged up and I'll never do anything that stupid again. Unfortunately I was climbing with my satchel on and my camera and mp3 player have bit the dust. Up above are the last two pictures I took before being pulled aside by mother nature and given a good scolding. I hope you all know how much it will mean to me when I get to see your smiling faces again. I'm glad I'll have the chance.