Day 26, Laguna Beach to Mexico, 102 miles, final day

Today we reached our goal, after nearly 2000 miles of pedaling.  We ended the day at the US border with Mexico.  Most of the day we rode through wealthy California with manicured landscaped yards, tree lined streets, immaculate parks, and pretty beaches. Late in the day was a long ride through the labyrinth of the industrial sector of south San Diego. We had to wind our way through countless back roads, railroad tracks, and uneven broken asphalt sections to get there. On the way we passed loading docks with huge ships and cranes.  Some areas looked as though we were already in Mexico. Amy and Andy met us near the border.  We dismantled our loaded bikes, and secured them to the roof racks on the suburban.

Throughout the day as we passed the several beaches I found myself already becoming nostalgic about this trip. I tried to stamp the scenes before me into my permanent memory so that I would always be able to recall them with pleasure and immense satisfaction. I tried to memorize the fresh smell of the slightly salty ocean air, the sounds of the sea birds, and to internalize the unhurried freedom I felt moving through the world at 15 mph.

This evening at dinner I listened as Kristi regaled Amy with the tales of the hard days. She was especially intense as she recounted the mental toughness needed to get through them, and the indelible lessons she had learned. One in particular was especially poignant. Kristi recounted when she thought she had no more strength left and her limit had been reached, that she discovered her pre-set "limit" was naïve, and that she kept redefining her limit according to what was needed. She said her limit had to be whatever was needed, not some artificial end point of capacity. Whatever it takes was the only valid limit. A long arduous trip like this burns into your psyche several invaluable skills, adapted by each rider to their own set of personal weaknesses and strengths. Among these are how to pace yourself through a long-term goal by concentrating on the immediate task at hand, thereby refusing to allow the magnitude to crush you. Discovering the immediate positives in an adverse environment is another crucial skill, the mantra of which is "hate makes you weak and love makes you strong". Understanding how to tap into the support of family and Jesus is also pivotal. Humility, born of adversity, a realization of your own nothingness, and the towering landscape itself has to mix with all these revelations as a necessary catalyst.

This is very likely my last big bike trip. I have done 11 of these, 4 of which were over 2000 miles.  I will miss this part of my life, to have a front row seat as my children internalize some of life's greatest lessons. I will especially miss the deep love I feel as I have pedaled beside them while they struggled from fear, to doubt, to faith, and finally love. Through these experiences I believe I understand better how Heavenly Father feels as I work to conquer my own frailties.

This trip is over, but the memories will become the stuff of family legend, and in private moments when the lessons need to be taught to the next generation. We will never be able to forget the month of May in 2009, when we three pedaled from Canada to Mexico.

Richard, Matthew, and little Kristi.

Day 25, Oxnard to Laguna Beach, 102 miles

At 5:30AM Gordon and Bryant loaded up our bikes and returned us to Oxnard, so we could begin our trip where we left off. Very soon we started into the land of famous beaches, expensive real estate, and exotic cars. This is stereotypic California. First we passed Malibu, then Santa Monica. Since it is Memorial Day, there were loads of people out to play and relax, with lots of traffic. The fishermen were out first, casting from rocks into the surf. Close behind were the real surfers out early in their wet suits. Then came the sand volleyball groups. Next were the beach comers, the gawkers, the locals, the tourists and then finally the cruisers came, not interested in hanging out at the beach, just in showing off their cars and driving up and down the strip. We passed Malibu, Santa Monica, Venice, Rodondo, Manhattan, Sunset, Huntington, Newport, and finally Laguna. For lunch we stopped at a mobile taco truck and had some really good food. We saw a homeless man digging in the trash so we talked to him and bought him some tacos. We also gave him a bagel and an extra tube for his bike. He ate lunch with us. He was grateful and thanked us. We pedaled until 4PM. Kristi said she was still good for another 10 miles, but we called it anyway. Our spirits are high. We have an unspoken camaraderie by this time having come so far together. Everyone has helped each other mentally as well as physically. We have all been weak at times and all been strong at others.

Tomorrow may be our last day.

Richard

Day 24, rest

Sundays are divine (pun intended). This one was particularly good, since we ended Saturday's ride only 23 miles from my sister Shirley's house. She wasn't expecting us but came and picked us up, bikes and all, and took us to her house. Then she fed us, and fed us, and fed us some more. We went to church with her family, after bumming clothes from everyone. I had the deacon look going, with a white shirt, slacks, and tennis shoes. After 3 hours at church we just hung out and talked. Kristi commented that she wanted to become the kind of person Shirley is, always willing to help others. Matt got on their computer and found us a detailed route to the border. He printed out all the instructions so we can wind our way through LA tomorrow, and San Diego on Tuesday. This will be invaluable for us to be able to not have to navigate en route.

Our quest is nearly done.

Richard

Day 23 Lompoc to Oxnard 95 miles

DUDE. It felt good typing in that 95 miles. It is Saturday night. I AM SO HAPPY. I loved today. People, we saw our first San Diego mileage sign today: 198 miles. I squealed a little at the sight of it.

Today we are staying with Dad's sister Shirley's family. She lives in Thousand Oaks (about 15 miles out of Oxnard where we stopped) and they were all nice enough to pick us up! Tonight has been better then most Christmas's I've had. We got picked up in a CAR that goes FAST, got a shower in a REAL home and had a humongo meal. And I'm typing this on a real computer, not a tiny little blackberry phone with buttons designed for elvish-sized people that cramp my fingers (that, truly, has been the real hardship of the trip). I digress. Basically, it is really wonderful here and the Jones family is very kind. But let's talk about the day, shall we?

We biked! The terrain lately has been really boosting my self esteem. I think we hit so many hard climbs this trip that now we are finally getting to some flatter land we are able to really cruise. The only problem, at least for the first half of the day, is I actually just get bored. Just chilling on an uncomfy seat for hours is rough. So I've been making Dad tell me stories as we ride, to help with the boredom, as well as the inevitable morning stress I feel. I heard all about his childhood today. He sure was a nasty little brother sometimes. It was great, made the morning pass quick. Combining nicely with this little bit of nostalgia, we went past El Capitan Beach today--the beach that Dad's family vacationed at often when he was younger. It was touching, we took the exit to see it, and he told us a bit about the times they used to spend there. He got his classic smile that makes his vein in his forehead pop out and it warmed my heart. It made me wonder, in 35 years or so, where I will be when I show my kids where I vacationed as a kid. Probably some lonely road on the coast where we biked on this very trip.

When we got to Santa Barbara, we had our normal "we hate biking through cities" syndrome flair up again. We got lost several times trying to wind our way through, but Matt is a jedi master navigator so we prevailed victorious. Schooled, Santa Barbara. We traveled through Ventura- beautiful city, and spent the rest of the miles right on the beach. We are definitely in Southern Cali, it's getting hot and palm tree-ish. Another squeal-worthy detail of today.

Honestly, I woke up this morning not thinking I could do 95 miles. Now we are 50 miles from LA and 180 from San Di-freaking-ego. If I can do this, we can easily solve world hunger and cure cancer. In general, there is hope for humanity.

I love you!

Kris

Day 22, Cayucos to Lompoc, 82 miles

Today had no mishaps! No mechanical problems, relatively few navigation quandaries, nobody was overly tired. The result was 82 miles by 2PM. The sad part was that the next place with ANY services was 45miles away, so we had to call it enough for the day. Otherwise we would have had to go 125 miles for the day, which was actually do-able; However, we are on schedule and there was no point, as Kristi put it, in taking a fabulous day and making it crappy. So we relaxed a bit. I took the time to find an 11mm Allen wrench and tighten my free hub, which has come loose again, so now I can reconnect my back brake (tire wobble is gone).The scenery today was lots of farmland -huge strawberry fields with lines of migrant pickers systematically moving through the rows,fields of celery that smelled familiar as we passed, broccoli, onions,lettuce, and artichokes. At one point we stopped on top of a hill overlooking the patchwork fields and Kristi said it looked like a painting.
We also passed through old San Luis Obisbo downtown which has cool shops and large trees lining the downtown streets.We all have good legs, proper long term mind set, and sense to know how to cope with our weaknesses. Kristi, for instance, knows not to ask the time or miles as we ride. She doesn't want to risk early elation or discouragement so she can't know.Today was the first day we have ridden where we could not see our breath when we started, although it was still uncomfortably cool. Our jackets usually stay on at least until noon.
Until tomorrow, Richard

Day 21- Big Sur to Cayucos 91 miles

I made the comment that today never felt like it got going. Every time we would set out to put down miles something got in our way. After about a mile from starting out we hit a steep 3-mile hill.  Big hills are ok once you are warmed up and ready. Since this one came so early with the thoughts of our recently abandoned beds fresh on our minds and a top that never seemed to materialize, we started out on a bad note. Nonetheless the scenery was so amazing none of us let the hill ruin the amazing ride through the area known as Big Sur. The next 35 miles were fantastic. The views are so unbelievable you hesitate to take pictures because you know that it won't do justice to what you are seeing. With all this come lots of hills, which makes the going slow. You climb up and down and in and out as the road hugs the costal cliffs. Every few miles or so the road goes exceptionally high and you get views that make you feel so insignificant. The ocean stretches out until it blends in with the sky in a light blue. To either side you see the inlets the ocean has cut creating what you can only imagine what the land would look like if it were dipping its feet in the water. 

Today truly was beautiful.  We made the mistake of stopping to often to take in the view. These trips are often difficult because of how many things you have to give up. For instance we rode through San Francisco the other day but did no sightseeing at all. We just rode in slept and left. These really are quests not trips. The whole goal is to get down the road. Same today, we had to give up taking too much time taking in the view. It takes some getting used too but it is all part of hat makes these trips what they are. In the middle of climbing up one of the hills this morning Dad broke a link in his chain. This cost us a half hour. There were so few well-marked towns we had no plans to stop for lunch. Then when we did stop it was just on the side of the road for bagel. Then just three miles later we found a mini mart and stocked up. All these little stops added up and we lost a few hours. Then just as we thought we had our ducks in a row so we could put down some good miles Kristi broke a spoke. After 30 minutes of that fix, and a look at all the sea lions at this one beach (there were hundreds!) we were on our way. By this time though it was 2:45 and we only had 65 mile. This was bad news because the only town that showed up on our map was 95 miles in. Luckily for us our afternoon tail wind kicked in.  We were all feeling lousy by this time though because of lack of a real lunch. On one hill I got really light headed and my body let me know it needed food right then. Before the top of said hill I had finished two granola bars and a Snickers. It is amazing how quickly your body goes through food on these trips. I felt the energy return to my body about 10 minutes after eating then 30 minutes later I could feel the hunger coming back so I had to eat again. The tailwind saved us once again and we pulled in to this amazing little town. I made a comment to Kristi today that might shed some light on why we do these rides. I was talking about how our only goal on these trips is to make it to the next town and cover the miles everyday. One simple, yet difficult, task. Therefore your only problems ever arise from not being able to accomplish your goal. Therefore the solution to all your problems is to get on the bike and pedal. How great a life when you have on solution to all your problems. That being said it is still incredibly difficult everyday but a simpler more concrete difficult. There is also a real satisfaction that comes from these trips. In normal life success is difficult if not impossible to measure. You don't have a yardstick to say today was this good. On the bike everyday has a number attached to it, a numerical representation that says you did this good, the miles you cover. I don't know if anyone can ever truly understand how we feel without going through the same but just know we are happy and hope you can feel a little bit of our highs and lows. Thanks for the support. We love you all.

 

-The Wilson's

Day 20 Santa Cruz to Big Sur 81 miles

Howdy howdy howdy. Today was...I hate starting blogs like that. Today was a thousand different things. From Santa Cruz we started immediately confused, the only road outta there is a freeway where we are discriminated against. So we asked some locals, and found our way out, eventually. Our confusion for a long time has been in part due to signs all along the Cali coast labeled "Pacific Bike Route" that always just confuse us more, as they are always lacking arrows or clear directions. I'd like to publicly reprimand whoever put them up.

We rode in a dense fog through strawberry and artichoke fields all morning. After that we rode into Monterey on a nice little designated bike trail. Monterey is beautiful! The beach alone is to die for, and all the little shops combined with the bike trail just makes for such a cool place. If anyone wants to go back, I'm in. We had to cut through the city, and although we swore he couldn't do it again, Dad took us up the steepest way possible. Up up and UP out of Monterey we went. The scenery after lunch was PHENOMENAL I think the darn prettiest part of the trip yet. This was the 25 miles into the famous Big Sur. The coastline was so so beautiful, (gosh beautiful is such an understatement) that even though it was crazy steep, I can for certain say it was worth it. At one particular part we rounded a corner, and there was this breathtaking view of a 300-foot bridge, connecting to a road tacked on the side of the mountain, trailing up into what looked like eternity, with the ocean 1000 feet below. Matt just said "Look" and I gasped. Usually I gasp out of dread, but this time it was just awe, and as cheesy as it sounds, respect. Dear Mr. Mountain and Mr. Ocean, I acknowledge your excellence, and I respect that. Matt mentioned after that when he saw that view it made him feel awed as well, but also proud of us.

This trip-this huge task before us- is so daunting, and like the mountain, so much bigger than we are. But here we are, chipping away at it one monster day at a time. On the other side the wind was blowing incredibly hard, at one point in our faces, which Dad admitted to dropping to 3 mph in? Finally it hit our backs, and we FLEW the last 5 miles. As long as days are, this trip is flying past and we're just trying to drink it all in. Until tomorrow.

Love, Kristi

Day 19, San Francisco to Santa Cruz 82 miles

Is it bad that the San Francisco Bridge still reminds me of Full House? We left that huge hilly terribly cold city this morning with a heavy heart. At least I did. Yesterday was the definition of a hard day. Cold, long, and disappointing.  So this morning I was more than a bit hesitant. We wound our way through the streets, climbed one of San Fran's finest MONSTER hills (well, I walked it) and trudged through until noonish. I never allow myself to look at the speedometer, so I didn't know the exact mileage, but I knew we were...pardon my French...sucking on miles. But at that point I think we got just far enough from San Fran, thus just far enough away from the curse it has upon us, and the wind blew fiercely...at our backs. Tailwind baby!  We put down 50 miles in about three and a half hours. The last ten miles I got a crazy allergy attack and could barley see, so it was quite a hot mess, but we survived one more day and live to tell the tale. We're in Santa Cruz, and they have palm trees, and streets named tropical things like "Ocean" and "Pacifica"! That's the California I'm talking about. As Dad mentioned yesterday, my left shifter was broken all day, so right when we got into town we started hitting up bike shops looking for a replacement. We got a tip to go to a place called "Bike Church"- a little community bike garage that carries random parts. We found a new shifter there (it's not technically called a shifter, but all I do is pedal, Matt and Dad handle all the technical stuff). It was the coolest place ever. Just a bunch of people (hippy looking, so, y'know, awesome) there to help us out. So today was good. We're in a shady motel, Matt is pretty sure he saw a drug deal go down in the parking lot (don't worry mom!), and I'm once again reminded of the serial killer in No Country For Old Men, but hey! One more day down. I'd like to do a shout out to Baby Boston, Kate's kid, who is ONE YEAR OLD today!!!!! Wish I could be there to give you a fat kiss. Also our prayers go out to Grandpa Ian and hope he's feeling all right after his stroke. Lastly, Matt would really like me to clear something up...the "bathroom problem" that he had yesterday was just trouble FINDING a bathroom, there was no less-then-appropriate-to-mention-publicly "bathroom problems" that occurred. If you have any questions you can talk to his attorney.

Thank you all and GOODnight. Kris

Day 18, Bodega Bay to San Francisco, 73 mile

We started in a fog this morning, which stayed with us for a couple of hours. It made for nice riding, cool and quiet. About 9, Kristi had a collapsed housing on her shifter cable. I walked to a farmhouse to borrow some wire cutters, in hopes of cutting back the housing to good section. We got it cut back and strung her a new shifter cable, since the frayed end of the old one would not rethread. That whole process lost us an hour. Then we had a bathroom crisis for Matt, plus a food stop that took way too long so we lost another hour. (Some details have been omitted as to why all that took another hour). Next we got lost trying to wind our way through the outlying cities, and stay on an elusive bike path that kept disappearing. The next delay was for a completely worn-to-the-metal brake pad on Kristi's bike. Because of the steep hills, we decided for safety’s sake to get her new pads so she could use both brakes. Scratch another half hour at a bike shop. The last straw was Kristi's front derailer broke completely and refused to shift. She was stuck in her small ring the last hour of riding.

So. It was a short mileage day. We got in late, which always creates stress (encroachment on sleep time), ate pizza in our room, washed our clothes in the sink, and took apart Kristi's hood to try and fix it. (A plastic piece that keeps the ratchet in place is busted inside the hood. Matt and I jury rigged it so at least she's permanently stuck in her middle ring, but some hills will be hard to climb until we can get a new hood.)

Good night. We hope Tuesday will be better. Richard

Day 17, Bodega Bay, rest, 0 miles

Bodega Bay is very small. There isn't even a real fast food place, just one hot dog place that closes at 6PM. However, it's a little resort town right on this protected inlet of the ocean that's very peaceful. For you movie buffs, it happens to be where Hitchcock's "The Birds" was filmed. This morning we all slept in until 7:30. It felt like noon. So indulgent! Right now we are sitting in a Laundromat dressed only in rain gear because all of our other clothes are washing. Kristi is writing postcards, I am writing this, and Matt is looking for something to eat.

Kris and Matt were talking this morning about the next week being our last full week. Kristi said it made her sad that this ride was that close to ending (!).  The transformation that I've seen happen to others so many times has come to Kris. I was able to experience one of those unique parental moments where your insides glow with a silent recognition of a child's precise moment of growth. It's a pleasure beyond any I know. We are about 60 miles from the Golden Gate Bridge, so we probably will be past San Francisco by Monday eve.

Have a nice Sunday. I sure will. 

-Richard

Day 16, Elk to Bodega Bay, 84 uphill miles

A word on hills from the desk of Kristi. 

The hills of California are doozeys! I'm not sure what else to say. We started the day climbing and ended it in much the same manner. I think they learned how to make the roads here with one template: they take you down, down, DOWN, and then do a crazy sharp hairpin turn, and then pull you right back up, up, UP. We rode this same thing probably a hundred times today. The up, up, UP is particularly intense. I do several things on these up, up, UPS that seem to make them better. One tactic that has been successful is I start singing Coldplay's "Viva La Vida." Who can be sad singing that? Also, I've been trying the whole Pavlov dog experiment. Every time I climb a big hill I give myself a candy. If it's a really big hill I give myself two candies. And if it's a HUGE hill I break out a Snicker's and...dare I say it...take a swig of Gatorade. I hope, in time, to actually train myself to salivate at the sight of hills. We'll see how this plan fares. Another thing I realize is the hills end. They always end, which is what me sitting in a bed right now is testament to. There will be more Monday, but even those eventually will be over. And ah heck, I bet I'll miss them. The only cure I've found to get over my stress is just keep biking. I looked down at Matt's speedometer after about three hours and saw 30 miles. I didn't like that. 30 miles compared with the 80 I needed to have at the end of the day was just gross. But I got on, and just rode. Rode far away from that place; those 30 miles; that gross feeling. It goes away people! The 30 miles is long gone, and I will never, ever be there again. So my Sunday message is this:  just keep biking! Bodega Bay is right on the ocean and just as gorgeous as ever. We got our first batch of pretty intense sun and are all looking a bit Latino. Especially Matt with his 'stache. Hehe. Sleepy time, later skaters.

LOVE,

 Kris

Day 15, Richardson’s Grove To Elk, CA, 87 miles

Today was a LOT of climbing. The first big one came at mile 15, over the mountains from Leggett to the coast, 22 miles. However the downhill was the best ever full 12 miles! There are not words to describe the pure joy of an empty road and a screaming downhill after a hot sweaty ride, unless you've experienced it. Without even thinking about it you are laughing out loud as you make effortless sine curves across both lanes at 35 mph. At mile 38 we broke out of the mountains to another postcard view of the ocean, with large rocks in the surf poking up through the fog. The rest of the day was lots of typical coastal hills; very steep 4-minute leg burners, with a 1-minute torrid downhill.  Even Matt had enough. However, every corner of the road brought views to inspire paintings. The good news about today is that Kristi is really getting her legs. She no longer gets left way back on hills, but is only a short ways behind when I top out. (Matt, of course, is way ahead of both of us.) She is starting to discover the mental skills needed to pedal all day.

(Warning--Dad is about to wax philosophical). There is definitely a unique mindset that must be conquered to go all day, day after day. This is an invaluable life lesson of long rides, because once learned, it can be called upon in any situation to pace yourself and lock in for the long haul.  It is a combination of patience with yourself and patience with the external forces that cannot be controlled yet hinder your progress. For instance, a rookie to long rides will curse a headwind and get mad, but after the transformation will just push through it and maybe even laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. However, the skill is deeper than normal patience, just as waiting for, say, the semester to end, is quite different than a mother waiting for a baby to be less maintenance. In the mother's case, if not careful, she can find herself merely tolerating the drudgery and miss the unique joys of her new baby. A bike trip has similar parallels; with a novice so consumed with their own pain they cannot enjoy even spectacular scenery. Anyway, it's great to watch it happen. Matt calls it "making peace with the bike". Even though the scenery might be great, making peace with the bike is really what endears riders to the experience.

We found a great place to sleep and eat after a tough day, the best of any so far. It's on a big cliff overlooking the ocean, with groomed gardens.

Later. It's 8 and time for bed.

-Richard

Day 14, Eureka to Richardson’s Grove, 84 miles

Today was a very nice ride through forested hills and mountainous terrain. We traveled about a third of it on the famed Avenue of the Giants, where the old highway 101 winds it's way through 30 miles of giant redwood forest. The road is shaded most of the way due to the narrow road and the height of the trees, and it was overcast as well. Absolutely perfect riding weather, at 55 degrees or so. There was also almost no traffic as the tourist season is not here yet. The trees are really inspiring, huge 12 ft and bigger in diameter lining the highway on either side, most over 200 feet high.  We found one at a tourist trap with a road through it where we all 3 could ride abreast. We ate lunch at Myers Flat, where we camped on the first California trip. At 2:30, we had 84 miles and started looking for a motel. There were several small towns south of us but we soon found out the nearest motel was still 55 miles away. We were at a campground with primitive cabins to rent (plastic covered mattresses) but the beds have no bedding! We convinced the camp director to lend us 3 sets of her personal sheets, and 3 pillows. Voila! We had a place to stay. We had to use our pillowcases for towels to shower, and we had to get liquid soap from the sink dispensers for shower soap by cupping our hands. We were very lucky this place was here.

Today was the first day we rode without our rain shells! Prior to now we have always needed them for warmth, even when it was not raining. My sunglasses even made their debut for a few hours. Kristi continues to be daunted by any talk of miles to go or any perceived pushing by Matt to make time. So...the rule is no talking of where we expect to be during the ride.  We all just ride. To stave off boredom on hills, Matt will often ride up them with only one foot clipped in. He also will ride with a hand on Kristi's back to push her. Sometimes she let's him help her, other times not.

Later, Richard

PS-In Eureka at a pizza place we saw a guy with a BYU shirt on. Maybe Cassandra knows him-Paul Edmunds.

Day 13, Klamath to Eureka CA, 65 miles

Well, the apocalypse is near. Matt is in a grumpy mood. Since day one, Matt's been letting me wear his long sleeve biking jersey, because it was way colder than I expected so I needed that plus arm warmers and my rain jacket. Apparently, Matt thought this extension of kindness was only temporary, and that I'd buy one for myself first chance I got. But ah, hello? $65 for something I'll only use this trip? I'll pass. But both of us didn't understand the other's point of view, and the showdown occurred today, in Eureka, California's local bike shop. He found one for me to buy, I said heck no, he fully realized his jersey was staying on my back indefinitely, and the fire of injustice has been burning ever since. A few minutes later he flipped a brick when dad took a bite of his snicker's, and now he's in the corner complaining about a gummy bear being stuck in his nasal cavity. This is rare. Matt's usually the one pushing us up hills and making up songs (yesterday's: "the sun'll come out...in a few more days...probably not...bet your bottom dollar that it...might.) But today he's just a bit fussy. When really I am the only one to have a reason to be grumpy, my sunglasses flew out of my pack today narrowly missing Matt's back tire, luckily they were recovered with minimal harm done. Luckily.  Today otherwise turned out great. We left Kalamath and took a gorgeous ride through a road lined with redwoods and got our pic with "Big Tree". It was, as you can imagine, big.  Dad says this ride still ranks in his top 5 of all time.  We passed mile after mile of HUGE trees lining the road. It was, dare I say it, fun. We kept down the road, the terrain a bit hilly but fine. Dad busted it about mile 40 to try and get to Eureka before we did to get his bike fixed, and fixed it now is. But, with the time it took, plus a stop at FedEx Kinko’s to get a camcorder we had shipped to us (the other went bonkers because of all the rain we've been having) it was just too late to continue. We had more miles in our legs, just not a 27 hour day to use them in, unfortunately. A word about our motel—holy canoli it is the most ghetto thing EVER, gotta love holes in the walls and cockroaches everywhere. Thanks everyone for the happy birthday wishes, it was definitely a unique one but one I'll never forget. Dad even got me a present, pink colored shoelaces that are quite fab. I love it. I wish you all well. I think we'll go for an 85-mile bike ride tomorrow.

Love,

Kristi Kay

Day 12, Gold Beach to Klamath, 80 mile

Today was hard. It started out with rain and killer hills, but of course nice scenery. We got up at our usual 4:30AM, but had mechanical probs with my bike early on. Kristi was especially down, partly due to this being her birthday, and partly because she (we) have engaged in entirely way too much "end talk". San Diego talk this early is not wise because it makes you trunky.

The rain quit about 10 and we shed our rain gear. The weather here goes from rain to warm and back to cold very quickly. You never can get a comfortable riding mix with the proper clothes for very long. (The veterans of the Alaska trip will all have a laugh at this declaration!) We stopped at a lame bike shop in Brookings, did not get my problem fixed but wasted an hour and a half. (My middle front chain ring is worn out and will not hold any torque without skipping. Also my derailer spring will no longer pull the chain into the smaller sprockets on the cluster. Yes--we cleaned all the cables and the derailer and lubed them so there are no hang-ups--the spring is just worn out.) Then we stopped at a shop in Cresent City but they didn't have the right parts either. So I have to stay out of my middle ring, which is a pain. I end up cross-chaining a lot. Finally we got back on the road with only 20 miles to go at 2. Right out of town we hit a 10 percent that took us an hour and a half to climb. On the upside, the view from the top was spectacular.  We could see so far out across the ocean you could see the curvature of the earth. The downhill was also awesome.

The first part of the day we road past lots of those postcard views of beaches with huge green and grey velvety rocks jutting into the surf, many with a lone tree growing from the top. I told Kristi that someone ought to write a poem about them and call them the silent sentinels of the sea. The last part of the day we rode through a giant redwood forest with unearthly sized trees. Dozens were 8 to 10 feet in diameter. We definitely paid the price to see it all.

Later,

-   Richard

I forgot some fun things we did for Kristi's birthday.  Earlier in the trip she had mentioned she wanted some pink shoelaces for her Converse, to give her one girly thing to cherish. I kept an eye out for some but to no avail. The night before her b-day I got some white ones and also a little gift bag. Matt and I stayed up after Kristi went to bed and colored the white laces with a sharpie. We presented them to her on her birthday, along with some new hair ties. She now has her colored laces. Another thing I forgot was that we saw several sea arches, which were very cool. Bye.  

Day 11 Coos Bay to Gold Beach 84 miles

Hi guys. Guess what? We're 30 miles from Cali! And even though it's a 1200-mile state, getting there makes me feel pretty hard core. Today was really nice. Starting fresh after a Sunday was just what we needed. The day was rainy and pretty cold, but thanks to good gear we survived just fine. It's weird to me how odd time is for us. The days go so fast, by the time 80 miles rolled by both Matt and I were surprised it was already here.  And yet, simultaneously, the days feel so long and its soooo much work. I think perhaps I am getting used to this. My mind is finally wrapping around this new reality.  You just have to redefine your limits- your idea of what is hard, what is cold, how long you can bike, what you can ask your body to do. It's kind of trippy. I hope for this kind of experience for everyone at some point in his or her lives- not necessarily a big biking trip, just something that pushes you to the brink. Sorry, look at me, pulling a Richard being all philosophical. In other news, Matt has been growing his mustache since we started and it's hilarious. Nice and creepster looking. I'm trying to convince him to keep it going 'till the end. Also, we no longer call eating "eating", rather it's now just "feeding the beast." This said beast is currently being fed a 1/2-gallon bucket of rocky road ice cream in our hotel room. When there is more drama I'll clue you in. Heck, I may just start crying to add a little pep to all these nice days in a row. Tomorrow I leave my teenage years, so I think I'll go do something irresponsible to live these precious hours to their fullest. Love y’all; we'll see ya before too long. Nighty night!

Day 10, rest, by command, Coos Bay, Oregon

Sometimes the commandments are easy to keep! Sundays are such a pleasure. We went to church @ 9AM, partook of the Sacrament, and then went to a diner for "breakfast" at noon. I think the waiter was a bit surprised when we all ordered double meals, including Kristi. Big platters of biscuits and gravy, hash browns  (large size), with full orders of French toast "on the side". There were 7 plates of food for the 3 of us. When the waiter returned the plates were completely cleaned. Not a scrap was left. Then the coup de gras--Matt and Kristi ordered large milk shakes each. The waiter had a hard time keeping a straight face. We are in a motel that looks out on the bay. It's beautiful. It never really warms up though. Despite the difficulty of the ubiquitous 10 and 12 percent hills, we find ourselves awed and renewed by the spectacular vistas. We often are perched 200 and 300 feet above the angry surf on roads tacked to the mountainside. There are tall bridges every 10 miles or so spanning bay inlets or deep mossy gorges. The bridges are often several hundred feet above the water, a mile or more across, and treacherously windy. Rivers and smaller streams pass under the road constantly tumbling towards the sea.  To see all this with people you love, sharing a quest, is a rare moment to be cherished.

One of the things about a long bike trip is that it intensifies all your emotions and senses. You feel a deep sense of gratitude for all your blessings. Your family and friends are dearer. It also has a unique ability to put life in perspective. There is ample time to think and reflect. I'll write more on this later. Now I must get to bed.  Tomorrow rain is forecast--a safe bet for the weathermen here! Bye for now. Happy Mother's Day to all.

- Richard

Day 9 Waldport to Coos Bay- 83 miles

Another great day.  We started out and it was cold, not as cold as yesterday but still very cool.  The road for the first 25 miles was right out of a postcard.  Some of the prettiest highway in the nation. The road was right on the cliffs above the ocean.  We are experiencing the hills of the coast but our legs are getting more used to it everyday.  About mile 20 Dad's bike was acting like it had a loose bearing.  We tore into it and thought we had it solved but we found out later that this wasn't the case. Later Kristi had a broken spoke.  Both of these problems cost us time.  Dad's wheel acted up later and we figured out it was a problem with another part of his rear wheel the free hub was loose.  Not that this makes any sense to all of you, but just so you know this could have proved to been a multiple day delay.  We used the blackberry to find bike shops and the closest one was 25 miles away.  So Dad left Kristi and I and took off trying to make it to the shop before it closed.  Good news is that he did and they were able to fix the problem.  We love all this sunshine and hope it stays this way.  It is still cool enough though that we have to where some warm gear all day so we are getting tan faces and half of fingers. We are just keeping our hopes up for a warmer California coast where we can get proper helmet strap farmers tans.  The aches and pains are still here but they seem to lessen with each passing day.  We are all in a good mood today; Sundays are the best days of the week.  So wish us a good rest and a good Sunday. Thanks for all the support.  We love you all. Just one more full riding day in Oregon and then it's on to California, don't worry though the coast there is about 1000 miles long so these emails will keep coming for a bit longer.

With Love,

The Wilson's

Day 8 Tillamook to Waldport 85 miles

Why hello! Today was superb. Which is probably the only reason the boys are letting me write this, otherwise I would whine too much. Which reminds me...I'm sorry I whine so much. I'm sure it gets old. But today there was no reason to, which is why it was the FIRST DAY I didn't cry. It was a big deal. Matt and Dad were just on pins and needles, wondering when it would come, but I held out. We woke up very early and hit the frigid morning air with a vengeance. We were rockin it, I'm not going to lie. Then, we just kept rockin'it. Our goal was Newport (69 miles), but when we got there at 1:30 with a legendary tail wind (about 15 mph) we couldn't pass it up, and rode on to the next town 15 miles down the road. We got an amazing view of the coast almost all day long. So pretty. But the most eventful parts of the day were:  Sun! It came out and stayed all day! Which means my glasses got some game time! You will never understand how much happiness it gave me. Also, at lunch I ran into a tiny little bookshop to go to the bathroom, and as fate would have it, I dropped my camera straight...into...the...toilet. Now we would ask that your prayers be directed towards its recovery. Before I go, I’d like to clear things up a bit. Bro Urquhart, it 'twas I who desired this trip in the first place. My father is only a scapegoat.  Matt calls me Dr. Jekyll because my feelings are so bipolar. The day is done and we are happy, safe, and well fed. Thank you for the tips (tye my Achilles are doing amazing thanks to a 1/2 inch seat lowering!) And the love (The Bryant’s...your one liner last night has given me strength all day) and if you need us we'll be on the 101 headed south.

Much love,

Kris

P.s. CAMDEN I love you!

Day 7 Astoria to Tillamook 63 Miles

We had beautiful weather today! Still quite cool but very little rain. We rode along the coast for most of it, with spectacular views of the ocean and little New England looking like towns with weathered siding houses on steep hillsides.  We are now tracing the route from the first coastal trip, but with different stops because of different mileage. Even though the weather was good, the psychological impact of the weeks ahead of us, and the paltry progress we are making into the 2000 miles, became overwhelming for Kristi.  I told her this happens to everyone on his or her first big trip. Mike and I never admitted we were actually planning on going clear to New York until we had 1000 miles done.  It is just too weighty of a task to confront all at once, so you have to protect yourself from the reality for a while.  Kristi has to learn this technique or the trip will bury her in a mountain of despair.  I think it's so hard to confront all at once because each day is so hard, and the thought of 4 weeks of that kind of physical difficulty no one can bear all at once.  Today was bad because of all the steep (several 10%'ears) hills we had to do and she doesn't have the strength to climb these very fast.  So, at 10 AM we had very few miles and she bonked mentally.  There was lots of crying, and cursing her situation, and trying to think of a million ways to get out of it, even though she was the one who requested this trip.  Matt and I assured her that it didn't matter how many miles we went, just so we kept at it.  Such a lesson for life!  The speed isn't important, only the direction!

This experience has got me thinking that many things we ask for, and want, not understanding the full import of our request, nor how truly difficult the experience will be.  Marriage I'm sure qualifies for this scenario.  However, just because we didn't really understand is no excuse to quit.  In fact, we can't understand most important things until we have actually experienced them.  This, I think is how it should be, because if we could understand we would be reluctant to take them on, and the growth that is essential would never occur. Life itself I believe is a macrocosm of this principle.  I am certain we all wanted to come down from the presence of our Father (see Job 38:4,7).  I am also certain that we really had no idea how difficult it would be at times, but we trusted our Father who did know, and told us it would be essential for our progression.  Ironically, it would also bring us joy beyond our comprehension at the time because of the contrast with the opposition.  Without the opposition, there is no joy. However, all this doesn't mean it's still not just plain hard to the very core.  It is beyond what she thought she could do..  Kristi is experiencing this essential principle in all it's fury, and eventual joy. So, we will be settled for now with what she can do, and give her all of our love and support in the meantime.  Actually it wasn't even a terrible day miles-wise, so all is good.  Worry does not diminish tomorrows burdens, but it does rob today of it's strength.  Later.

--Dad

Day 6, Aberdeen, WA to Astoria, OR, 82 Miles

Gratitude is a relative thing. Today I was grateful that for an hour or so it didn't rain quite so hard. Sometimes small blessings in the midst of tough times can be the most rewarding.  Such was today. The rain let up enough around lunch time to allow us to open up our packs long enough to grab some 5 day old bagels and granola bars without soaking everything. That may not sound like much but we sure all appreciated it. We got out @6AM. It rained all day, a cold rain. The temp never rose above 45 degrees. Ironically, the only way to keep warm was to push hard going up the hills. Downhills were painful since the rain pelts you in the face and you have to look down for any relief, which you can only do momentarily. We had very sparse towns today, with only one possible place for lunch. However, when we got there it had no services---not ANYTHING. We ate "lunch" straddling our bikes standing up. Late in the day we made it to the end of the Columbia River close to where it meets the ocean. There is a bridge there connecting Washington with Oregon.  It was blowing so hard it was difficult to walk. As we started across the bridge, it blew harder since we were out across the water unprotected, and up in the air quite high. The bridge was 4 and one half miles long! It took 40 minutes to cross and was so cold, all the time with cars whizzing past. The worst part was a second bridge we also crossed. By then we had all had it. We are now in Oregon, where Mike and I started Cross Country 1, and where we started the first west coast trip.  Bye.

Day 5 Kalaloch to Aberdeen 73 fra-zeezing miles

Things I think I would have rather done then ride in the rain, all day, with a head wind:

1. Go to war.

2. Read Twilight.

3. Y'know what, pretty much anything.

But alas, rain was the bitter forecast. Matt wonders if perhaps God is angry with us? Your thoughts? We got out a little late because we woke up to wet laundry and had to painstakingly dry it with a hair dryer, and then after just a bit of riding I broke a spoke and we had to take about 45 minutes to fix it. All of this happened, mind you, in very unrainy weather. But (cue depressing music) with just 10 miles at 10 a.m. The rain began. And boy did it rain. And it was like 40 degrees. And blowing.  Okay, I think you get the point. My mind was brought back to the planning meetings for this trip, where our dear brother Mike (not on this trip) would simply say, "it's going to be freezing, you know." Well mike, Touché. You were overwhelmingly correct! But we wouldn't be Wilson's if we made things easy. It was, in a word, demoralizing. For hours I just sat on Matt's wheel and let him take the wind away. Sometimes we'd just look at each other and scream because of how amazingly cold it was. I cracked a little bit and yelled at Dad for making me do this. But all is forgiven now, right? In the middle of all this we stopped for .81-cent hot cocoa at a tiny little shop. Glory bee. That was fabulous. For about an hour at the very end we got a glimmer of sunlight and believe it or not- we sure didn't midday we made it to our desired destination. In Aberdeen Washington we reside. We're all pooped, but want to say THANK YOU!!!! For all the words of encouragement and love and prayers. We are so thankful and love you right back. I'll let you know when my sunglasses make their debut.

And one last thing, Matt's song for the day, sung to the tune of Simon and Garfunkel’s "Sounds of Silence": "hello Charleston chew my old friend...it's nice to see you in my mouth again..." He eats a lot, but we like him.

 

 

Day 4-Port Hardy to Kalaloch- 101 miles

The keyboard we have for doing these emails decided it isn't going to work today so this will be short. To bad because today we had just about everything. We started out and just five miles in we took a wrong turn that turned out to be an 11-mile detour. 11 miles doesn't sound like a lot but; 1 on a bike every mile is a big deal, and 2 it is so discouraging to have to turn around and lose all that time. By the time we figured out what was going on we had lost a full hour. Also because of spacing we still had to ride to the same place, which was now going to be a full 100 mile day. Later we had a nice tail wind that made the day easier. Dad mentioned he loves the feeling of doing 20 miles per hour in a draft line. We passed through the famous town of forks, made popular by the Twilight books. Someone told us forks was going to be under whelming and it was. It does get 210 inches of rain a year though. We were doing great until mile 90. The wind and rain kicked up and made it miserable. Dad said he has never been so cold. It truly was miserable. Tomorrow's forecast is 100% chance of rain. We're not happy about that. I, matt, can't seem to eat enough. I am eating about double the other two. It might be my favorite part of the trip. Tomorrow should be more enjoyable, pray it rains once we're off the bike. We did see the prettiest lake probably in the entire world. It was surreal. These trips are so amazing. The highs are so high (scenery, food) and the lows are so low (detours, set backs, cold). It is like seeing the world through different eyes. I don't know if anyone could ever know, without experiencing it, just how unbelievable these trips are. Wish us luck.