You were snoring so sweetly I didn’t have the heart to wake you up, Jennie said. She had half her stuff packed and coffee brewing. She hadn’t slept well, and then she had a flat tire before we even left camp. It was hot, and Jennie wasn’t feeling it. We Read more…
My zippers didn’t line up. My sleeping bag had a left-sided zipper and my bivy sack had a right-sided zipper. And when I woke up and had to super-duper-pee in the darkness, I couldn’t figure out how to get out of it all. I tried and failed a few times Read more…
It was 2am. The thermometer said it was 64 degrees. I shivered my way under another blanket on the couch. We didn’t prepare for cold. Mom, we’re going to die of hypothermia, I said in the morning. She smiled and handed me a stack of her polar fleece clothes – Read more…
Day 5 29.94 miles Mom pulls a pair of pliers out of her purse to help her clasp her Fitbit to her wrist. Can’t reach it otherwise, she says. We draw a giant heart on the beach and write VD in the middle and make our bikes kiss each other Read more…
Day 4 23.20 miles I wandered outside in my bare feet to check the weather. The ground was wet but it wasn’t raining. My feet, splash-splash-splashing in the puddles. My toes, white with cold. Once on the road, it rained on us a little bit. Misty but not bad. Not Read more…
Day 3 43.7 miles The rain is coming. The ARK. We’d registered ourselves online as visitors to Camp Pendleton. My Dad was stationed there back in boot camp when he was a Young Pup. The directions were very clear. We had to register ahead of time and bring a government-issued Read more…
Day 2 35.41 miles Mom dropped us off at the bike path and took more photos while we grinned our faces off. We talked as we rode and friendly strangers gave us directions when we hadn’t even asked. We rode into La Jolla on our trusty steeds and glided into Read more…
Day 1 29.63 Miles Mom drives us miles down the dirt road toward the U.S./Mexican border. We fiddle with our gear and pose in front of a sign for photos until an official-looking person comes over to tell us not to ride to the border. Human-Contaminated-Sewage, he says. Don’t get Read more…
Intentionally slow. Coffee, the corner store, Jennie’s breakfast scramble deliciousness, luggage by the door. Cats perched on top – convinced they’re going too – purrs echoing the halls. My bike decided it didn’t want to ride today anyway so it went ahead and got a flat tire doing nothing. Maybe Read more…
The snow pounds the windshield, then suddenly drifts away. The wet road left behind. It came again and again. Flirting with me. Coy. Worn out rusty chains on trucks, flat on one side from years of being squashed under heavy loads. Rattle rattle rattle, they say. It takes three forevers Read more…