How did you spend Christmas?

I usually have plenty of time to visit with my patients during their therapy session. Some really like to talk and others are more quiet. One of our topics of discussion this week was Christmas plans. One of my patients in the transitional unit seemed to have a room full of visitors all week long. They did some singing and shared their Christmas goodies with me. On Friday when I stopped in his room for our session, he told me the whole family had been there on Christmas and his ribs hurt because he'd been laughing so much the past few days.

When I sympathized with another patient about how hard it is to be laid up this time of year, he commented, "I've spent a couple of Christmases living in my car so this isn't so bad." Over the next 30 minutes he told me what it was like to live on the streets. Over time, he began to stop thinking clearly. All he focused on was where to get enough food to survive and as a result he forgot that he had family within 100 miles who might be able to help him. Thankfully he had a friend who realized he was going deeper into depression and knew he needed to get out of town and start over somewhere else. This friend gave him $100 and told him to fill his car up with gas and start driving. The only memory he has after that was finding himself on a state highway thinking he could drive in front of semi and end his life without hurting the truck driver. "I didn't see one semi for the over 100 miles that I drove." He ended up at an uncle's house who made sure he was treated for the depression and was able to get back on his feet. After all that, it isn't so bad to be recovering from surgery in a warm place where there is plenty of food and even a therapist or two to add some variety to your day.

Sights and personalities

You know it is meal time when you walk down the halls and all you see in the rooms are chairs in the "eject" position.

The only time I hear all the televisions tuned to the same station is when the Hawkeyes are playing. And that is the only time I've seen the TV on in the dining room. We must be in Iowa.

The best gift you can give a hard-of-hearing resident of any facility is headphones so no one else has to listen their loud TV.

It is a relief to walk into a patient's room and hear a conversation happening in normal tones, especially after having spent 35 minutes "yelling" at another patient and even then, having to repeat everything twice.

Dementia has it's advantages -- at least for the therapist. I have a couple of patients who have "thrown me out" but 10 minutes later don't remember I had just been there. With a change of approach I might even get them to agree to do what they just refused to do.

As an occupational therapist, I do my best to have my patients do things that they would normally do especially if they plan to go home. That however can be a challenge at times. One woman told me, "Of course I can dress myself, but I'm paying enough money here that someone else can do it for me!" After another woman made a sandwich she declared, "There! Do you now believe I can make a sandwich?! You do know that I've been making sandwiches for far longer than you've been alive!" Of course I had explained to her numerous times that the point wasn't that she couldn't do it. The point was to have her do things that she would do when she got home.

One of my patients who is in his 90s told me that almost all of his friends are in the cemetery. He had no idea why he had survived WWII and had been so healthy until recently and others hadn't. He concluded that life is short even when you live into your 90s so you'd better live for eternity. I couldn't agree more.

Transition

I've been through some major transitions in my life. Moving from the farm to the near-north side of Chicago at 18 was the first. Then I moved to France and learned a new language and culture. Four and a half years ago I moved to Minneapolis. And last month I moved to an area about 35 miles from where I grew up. You would think it wouldn't be that difficult. After all, I knew where the grocery stores, the YMCA, the library, and the courthouse were. I recognize people when I'm out and about. People have actually heard of my hometown. I'm enjoying the benefits of being in a smaller town and back in farming culture where people actually have known each other for a long time. It sounds like it should be an easy transition, but I've decided that no transition is easy.

Four years ago I was wondering how long the transition would take, when I would have friends, and when I'd feel at home. All of that takes time. After all, history can only be made one day at a time. Last weekend I went to Minneapolis to visit friends and was reminded of the type of relationships that can be built in a few short years. I am thankful for the people I have met at the church I've been attending here who have invited me to join them for Sunday brunch after church and to be a part of their missional group. Those small things have helped.

The bigger transition for me is in my work. It's a new career, and though I've passed a test saying I know what I'm doing, in reality, I often feel like I don't have a clue. I told a friend that I don't know enough to actually know what I'm doing, but I do know enough to act like I do. I'm often searching my textbooks for answers to my questions when I get home. I guess I can only gain experience one day at a time as well.

It's hard to grow old

My grandma once said, "It's hard to get old." She must have been in her late 80s or early 90s at that point. In many ways she was very healthy for her age but her body was slowing down. My aunt encouraged her by saying, "Well, if you don't get old, you die young."

This week I've thought of Grandma's comment several times as I've listened to my patients and seen a couple of them cry. It's hard to have to wear Depends, to have legs that can't counted on to hold you up, to have a disconnect between your brain and your muscles, to not be able to bend over to pick up something you dropped, to realize you aren't going to regain abilities that were lost, or to not be able to dress yourself. It's hard to miss your spouse and wonder why you are the one who is left here alone after so many years together. It's hard to wait for family to come see you; even though you know they are busy, you still feel lonely. It's hard to feel like you don't have the energy to plan to be with family for Thanksgiving. It's really hard when your kids don't let you go straight home from the hospital but insist you get some therapy in a nursing home and you fear it's a ploy to keep you there.  It's hard to feel like you've lost control over so many of the basic things of life.

"All I want to do is go home." 
"I came here to get better, not to die."  
"Why am I still here?"

Three weeks into my new job, I still sometimes feel like I don't know what I'm doing. But my biggest challenge this week was knowing how to respond to some of my patients' emotional pain. I'm old enough to know that most words sound empty and trite. A listening ear, a touch on the shoulder or a hand held, and a few questions are probably the best thing I have to offer. Yet in my role as a therapist, I do need to say something and, from my experiences this week, I need to do a better job explaining the purpose of therapy up front and make sure my patients feel like they have a say in what we are doing.

Settling In

I started my new job last Monday. The first day was paperwork (and signing my names more times than I've done in a long time.) I came home with some policy manuals to read when I can't sleep at night. ;-) The other staff seem truly glad that I'm there since I am in a position previously filled by traveling therapists. By Tuesday afternoon my head was swimming with the difference between Medicare part A and part B, the right diagnosis with the right name with the right face, the details of the computer documentation... The traveling OT was very helpful the first several days but Wednesday afternoon I was on my own. Needless to say I was exhausted by the time I got home each evening. By Friday afternoon I felt more comfortable and managed to finish all my work for the week. It took me longer than 40 hours, but at least I can begin this week without feeling like I'm behind.

Saturday morning I moved into my new apartment. Most of my things were already packed up (and a few boxes haven't been touched since my arrival from France 4 years ago). Dad had most of my boxes in the garage by the time I got home Friday evening. Together we taped up the last ones and I packed the last couple of suitcases. Thanks to the help of Dan, Chad, and Carter we got everything loaded into the trailer, van, and my car. Thankfully unloading didn't seem as bad as I thought considering the spiral staircase that goes up to my 2nd floor apartment. Jeremy arrived to help make the last trips up the steps. Chad told me not buy a piano before I moved out if I wanted his help. This has the largest kitchen I've ever lived in. There is plenty of room for my minimal dishes, pots, pans, and other utensils. We did find the plates but the legs for my box spring have yet to appear. I guess that happens when things were packed up about 11 months ago. After Mom and Dad left, I put my feet up and enjoyed the colors in the western sky as the sun set and just relaxed. There are still boxes to unpack, but they can wait until another day.

Apartment Hunting

I've looked for a place to live numerous times in my adult life -- but where was I to find listings in an area where there is no "69" or Craig's list? Small town Iowa doesn't have such things, even in the Okoboji area. I did find a couple of web sites and began a list of places that might be appropriate. The first place I visited felt like an apartment in the hood. Nobody had bothered to do any cleaning and there was an air-conditioner-sized hole in the wall. That one was easy to cross off the list. It also made the next place look a lot better. The new flooring and remodeled bathroom made it seem far more livable. The next day I drove back over to the area to see an apartment in a new building. The quality of the construction was evident but I didn't really want to pay the price especially because the garage was extra. Friday morning I headed to the area for a third time to see a condo. This place was ideal in many ways -- an open floor plan, two bedrooms and two baths (come visit!), and a garage. It was also clean. I went home and filled out the application and emailed it in and received the lease in the mail today. It will be a new experience to move into an apartment with all the appliances and light fixtures in place and plenty of closet space.

I also spent several days last week looking for a place to meet a friend who now lives in central South Dakota. We wanted to spend a weekend together and she has been putting in some long hours at work so I volunteered to find a place for us to stay. With the late notice, several places were already full. Others catered to hunters. We ended up staying at an old feed mill in Herrick. It was definitely unique but also comfortable. We enjoyed some good conversation, laughter, and a nap every day. Saturday afternoon we took a long walk which took us through Herrick, which had no paved streets, a bar, a church, and plenty of dogs who advertised our presence.

Grateful!

Last Thursday I became officially certified as an OTR. I can not yet begin working until I'm officially licensed and can put OTR/L behind my name. As I've reflected on the four years this journey has taken, I'm very grateful for many people who walked with me and helped along the way.

• Housemates: Kathryn gave me my first address in Minneapolis when I was a friend of a friend. She was a former non-traditional student herself, so I actually believed her when she said my brain would remember how to study. Staci graciously took the tiny bedroom for the year we lived in an apartment together. While she struggled to stay sane, I was grateful for the extra space as I spent so much time there. Jan had some mutual friends vouch for me before she let me move in. She put up with my amazing ability to use every burner and pan while fixing supper and welcomed me into her relationships. 
• Minneapolis family: Though I didn't live very close to my extended family, it was nice to have "family" 45 minutes away. Barb and Wes welcomed me as part of their family around their table. They and cousins helped me move on the hottest day of the year. 
• Twin Cities Church: During the first few months I was in Minneapolis, I especially enjoyed the meal we had together as a house church each Wednesday evening. The time we spent around the table helped me get to know people and was often the only time during the week I ate a meal with someone else. Over time, these people became family. They helped me move, provided a place to stay between more permanent addresses and let me love on their kids. We shared each others joys, sorrows, and stresses and grew together in the grace of the gospel. This group of people reshaped my view of church.
• Former ex-pats: Within a month after I moved to Minneapolis, I met a couple who had moved back to the US after spending over 20 years in Europe. I no longer remember their names, but they told me it takes three years to adjust. That stuck with me and helped me be patient with the transition. Oscar and Cathi understood some of the quirks I picked up while in France and always seemed to delight in my stopping by unannounced. An added bonus was watching their son play rugby. I will never forget how they walked with me as I grieved John's death.
• Free housing: Jean and George, old family friends, welcomed me into their home while I was in Fergus Falls for three months. Scott and Kelly opened their home to a complete stranger when I was in St. Cloud. Their generosity saved me a lot of money and made that time of transition much easier.  
• Grandma: It was far easier for me to embark on this adventure because of Grandma's savings. From the time I was quite young, she had put money aside for me to use for college. I had enough left over to use as a down payment on an apartment in France. Between the increase in the market value and the drop of the dollar, it ended up being a very good investment that allowed me to pay for my schooling and live for 4 years without going into debt. My part time jobs and some help from my parents means I still have enough money in the bank to survive until I get my first pay check.
• Mom and Dad have always been my biggest cheerleaders. Mom did ask once if I had a plan B if I didn't get accepted into OT school. I didn't -- and I was accepted. More recently they had no doubt I would pass my boards, even though I had plenty. (Plan B was to study some more and take it again.) They have come to visit, filled up my gas tank and refrigerator, handed me checks, moved my stuff, stored my stuff, and welcomed me back into their basement. Through all the transition and changes, they have remained steadfast.

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, 

coming down from the Father of lights 

with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.

(James 1.17)

Test Anxiety

I'm not one who usually experiences any anxiety over tests. I study with the time I have and just go take it. For about the last month, my main task has been studying for my boards. It covers everything I learned (or was supposed to learn) in OT school. It seemed fairly straight forward until I started taking the practice exams that are included with the study guide I purchased. I answered the 170 multiple choice questions on the first one and read all of the rationals for all the correct answers. This process helped me understand how think through the questions and what I needed to study more. When I did no better on test #2 than on the first, I started getting nervous. I woke up at 3:00 with a tightness in my chest, a sure sign that I'm stressed. My thoughts went something like this:

• There is a lot riding on this test.
• There is no 2nd test at the end of the semester to make up for a poor showing.
• It cost $500 to take this test making a retake rather costly.
• I can't start working until I pass the test and it takes a month to get the results, so not passing would really push everything back.
• There's no way I can memorize all those charts about developmental milestones in the little bit of time that is left before next Tuesday. Why do they expect us to know things that we can look up on a chart anyway?
• There is an awful lot riding on this test.

I felt like I needed to go for a run to work out some of the stress.  But it was 3:00 in the morning so I just did some sit-ups and squats followed by some deep breaths and prayers. I eventually got back to sleep.

Since then, I've calmed down quite a bit. I still wish I felt more prepared, but over the last three days I've worked hard at reviewing the things I've learned in the past. An uncle reminded me that the most important thing to do is stay calm so you can think. Sounds like good advice. And many others have already passed this test. It is possible. I have one more day to review and then I'll do something to relax. Someone asked if I'd be throwing a party on Tuesday evening after the test. No, that will come when I hear that I've passed.

Back to "normal"

The day after I arrived back in Iowa after six weeks on my bike, I set off again for a short vacation in the Black Hills with my parents and niece, Elizabeth. This time the trip was on four wheels and I didn't wear orange once. Our trip across South Dakota included stops at the Corn Palace in Mitchell, the Badlands, and Wall Drug. We set out from our cabin outside of Hill City to visit Mount Rushmore, Custer State Park (yes, we did see a big herd of buffalo), and Jewel Cave. We also played a round of mini golf in Rapid City (won by Papa) where Okoboji was featured on the signpost along with such places as Paris and New York. We were introduced to all the presidents through the life size bronze statues in downtown Rapid City. Our last afternoon was spent on an old steam powered train that goes between Hill City and Keystone. The train goes up hills about as slow as I do on my bike. The hours in the car passed more quickly by introducing Mma Ramotswe, Mma Makutsi, and the rest of the cast of characters from the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency to Elizabeth by reading the latest book in the series. She must have enjoyed them since she came home from the library with the first book in the series.

   

During this past week, I've been getting back into a somewhat normal routine and eating schedule as my focus shifted from riding my bike to the next two objectives: passing the OT licensing exam and finding a job. To begin studying, I ordered what Google said was the best book for preparing for the exam. To prepare for a job interview on Wednesday I went through the list of the top 50 interview questions (according to Google) and got a hair cut. I felt better after the hair cut and at least thinking about some of the questions made it seem that I was doing something to prepare. 

The actual interview went well. I was able to come up with some type of answer for all their questions and I had some questions for them as well. Part way through I realized they were trying to sell the position to me as much as I was trying to sell myself to them. In the end, I'm to contact them if I haven't heard from them in two weeks. When I arrived back home, the exam prep book had arrived. My hope of taking the exam by the end of August went out the window. Instead I set a more reasonable pace of one chapter (out of 14) per day, plus some time for the three practice exams included with the book. I'm scheduled to take it on Sept 16. After my first few days of sitting at a desk again, I'm thankful that most of what I'm studying is familiar and I'm very glad that the questions are multiple choice rather than essay. An added bonus, there's been time for a couple of bike rides. They have been short, which is fine with me in this humidity.

The Last 2 Days

Friday was our longest ride of the week. The route from Packwood to Longview WA ended up being 94.84 miles. Once again we rolled out of the church parking lot before 6:00. For the first time in a long time, almost everyone had a jacket on to try and ward off the early morning chill. As we rolled through town, we saw several elk amble across the road in front of us and head into the forest. Most of the riders seem to take off at a much faster pace than my legs want to turn at the beginning, but after 10 or 15 minutes I’m ready to ride harder. I managed to eventually catch John Z and Turbo Tom and I rode with them to the bottom of the first hill where they pulled away from me. The profile promised 2 longer climbs (2-3 miles) but neglected to show the rolling hills towards the end of our route.

On the way up the second climb, I spotted an orange jersey in the ditch up ahead. As I got closer, I realized it was Justin who was raiding a blackberry patch on the side of the hill. I stopped and joined him figuring that would be a great snack. He was filling a quart-size zip-loc so he could make a pie. I had a second bag so we ended up with 2 quarts of berries and I had eaten plenty as well.

After our second rest stop, I set off with John, Melissa, Leah, and Lindsey. Lindsey and I were at the back talking when I got a flat. That put us at the back of the pack except for the sweeps. Once it was changed, we rode hard until the next rest stop, which was several miles later than expected because Tom had missed a turn. From that rest stop I rode with the others who had waited for us. The route sheet got rather complicated, and I have learned that it is always safest to ride with Melissa who made the route sheet and seems to have it memorized. The church we stayed at was hidden behind a storefront in downtown Longview. Rather than getting to explore, I joined my chore team in the last laundry duty of the trip. We have spent enough time together that between the three of us we were able to sort most of the laundry into piles including clothing that didn't have a name on it. 

Shortly after our return to the church we discovered that Dan’s bike had been stolen. He took it well and figured that the thief hadn’t gotten very far because the cable for the back derailer was frayed and had been disconnected waiting for a replacement. It would be a great disappointment to not get to ride the final day, so over our meal of an egg, sausage, and hash brown casserole, it was decided that Justin would ride Tom’s bike (that did most of the trip on the rack on the top of his van) and Dan would ride Justin’s since Justin fit Tom’s bike and Justin didn’t mind his being adjusted to fit Dan. Our day ended with eating the three blackberry pies Justin had made.

Saturday was our final day. This day had been the topic of many conversations over this last week. Along with favorite moments/days of the trip, people expressed their joy but also sadness at reaching the end of the trip. The 18 who did the whole trip had been together for 9 weeks. The shared experiences and living in close community results in strong bonds being formed. It’s the type of experience where just one word can bring laughter since it represents a whole story not easily explained to others.

Our instructions for the day were a bit different than usual. There would be one rest stop at mile 25 and then everyone was to wait at the pier in Astoria (about mile 50) until the sweeps arrived so we could ride together for the last 8 or so miles to the beach in Seaside that would be the official end.  Our route took us across the Columbia River and included 3 decent climbs. There was also plenty of rolling hills in the second half of the ride until we got to Astoria.

I rode with others until we reached the top of the second climb and then wanted to push it a bit so I rode hard for about 10 miles to the rest stop. Tom had chosen a gas station for our rest stop and we provided plenty of entertainment for employees and patrons alike since Mark and Brett decided to make some smoothies with the bike-powered blender. A little ice cream and other miscellaneous items from the food bins went in (including a maple flavored donut) and the result wasn’t too bad. 

During the second part of the ride through the rolling hills, I stopped to talk to two young men who were riding loaded-down mountain bikes. They were from Germany and riding from Seattle to San Francisco. In the course of our conversation I discovered they were headed for Seaside but had been told there was no room at the campground there. After talking with Melissa, I invited them to join us and gave them my route sheet so they would have the address of the church were we were staying. They were stopping in Astoria to use the internet and were also taking a different route.

I could smell the sea before we saw it and it was a beautiful sight. 

We gathered at the pier, took a group photo of this “dysfunctional family”... 

...and headed out together with Melissa (this year’s leader) and Lydia (next year’s leader) in the lead. I was toward the back of the pack and quickly decided it was a good thing that we didn’t try to stay together all the time. It would take some time getting used to the accordion effect.  

Mihai, one of the all-the-way riders, lives in Portland and his family came to meet us at the beach. I had no idea what a crew it would be. There must have been at least 25 of them (at least three generations). They had set up a finish line on the beach and were cheering loudly until we all came across.  From there things got a little crazy as some went running into the water (burr!!!), some cried, and all rejoiced. Once pictures were taking and hugs given all around, we circled up as a group for the last time. There was some Oyees! (meaning a combination of Thank you, Let’s do it, and Amen), a prayer, and a song, before we headed towards the church where we were staying. Had it been a bit warmer, we likely would have lingered longer.

Mihai’s family had not just come to welcome us at the beach, but they had brought grills and everything else needed for us to have a feast in the back yard. What a special treat! The rest of the afternoon was filled with packing up bikes, good-byes for those who were leaving that day, and getting everyone through the one shower. Our German friends, Hauke and Thore, arrived about 4. They unloaded their saddle bags and then headed for the beach. They made sure to be back in time for supper which was provided by some of the women in the church. We had made-to-order omelets, pancakes, hash browns, bacon, and fruit. Hauke and Thore were elated to not be cooking on their one tiny burner and filled their plates three times. Everyone who was spending the night ended up in Seaside which seemed to have more candy stores than anything else.

By Sunday evening, there were only 8 of us left. We packed up the trailer and van for an early departure on Monday morning and then headed for Cannon Beach to enjoy the sunset. It was a beautiful evening and sunset. Pictures can’t do it justice as the color of the sky was constantly shifting and they completely leave out the sounds of the seagulls and waves, the smell of the ocean, the coldness of the water and the feel of the sand on my feet. It was a fitting end to a great trip.

The Cascades

Thursday was our last mountain pass of the trip. I was looking forward to getting over the Cascades and out of the desert. We set out at about 5:45 and rode along the outskirts of Yakima were there was again lots of irrigation. There was a lot of wind which at times was right in our face. 

About 20 miles into our route, we turned onto the road up to White Pass. Thankfully the mountain protected us from the wind or it simply died down. Either way, the wind was not much of a factor for the rest of our 73.75-mile ride. Since the wind didn’t seem very strong, I set out from the first rest stop on my own. I knew we would be climbing for most of the next 30 miles and often it is easier to do that at one’s own pace. That may sound like a long climb but I only dropped down to my smallest chain ring for the last 8 miles. It was a beautiful ride. I rode along creeks, rivers, and lakes. Small waterfalls came down the cliffs and the forest became thicker the closer I got to the top. One of the benefits of seeing the US from a bicycle saddle is there is no roof over one’s head so there is a much wider view of the scenery, especially when some of that scenery is vertical. I also enjoyed the odor of pine and fresh cut lumber when a logging truck passed me going in either direction.

The road had only two lanes but there was usually a decent shoulder. One time I was passed by a semi and several other vehicles, at which point I also heard the very loud sound. I was quite concerned for a split second as I wondered what was bearing down on me, about to run me over until I realized it was a fighter jet. I was unable to see it but others told me they had seen swoop down over a nearby lake.

I was greeted by Tom ringing his cowbell and doing his little dance at the top of White Pass. Lois was standing in her shrinking bit of shade and there was the usual buffet of cliff bars, granola bars, bananas, apples, oranges, bread, peanut butter, honey, jam, chips, raisins, and a various assortment of other energy-giving foods. I had plenty of time to eat as I waited for others to join me. Before heading off for the descent, we took another group photo by the sign to commemorate another mountain conquered. One reaction I received prior to my departure was, “Oh, I wouldn’t want to cross the mountains.” Personally, I was far more concerned about the wind, and after all the miles I’ve ridden, I think I was right. Climbs, no matter how long or difficult, come to an end and gravity takes over. A headwind does not end unless the road turns. I may feel differently had our route going through the higher elevations in the Rockies.

Early in our descent we had to stop for road construction. I was thankful that was on our descent, since we can descend at a much closer rate to the speed of a car than when climbing.  Riding through the one-lane construction zone required almost continual use of the brakes, but after that I cruised to the bottom. The sudden view of the snow-covered Mt. Ranier, did require a stop to get a good picture.

The rest of our ride through a National Forest was helped along by the downhill grade. Our home for the night was in a church on the edge of Packwood, WA, nestled into the woods. It was a beautiful setting. The supper chore team put the provided lasagnas into the oven and heated the place up, but we cooled it off by propping open a door. It is nice to be in a part of the world where there are few mosquitoes and even fewer flies.

The Desert

Monday our route took us from Lewiston ID to Dayton WA. Our departure time each morning depends upon several things: the number of miles we need to pedal, the forecast, and whether or not our hosts are preparing breakfast for us. We had only 68 miles to cover and our hosts prepared us a great breakfast of steel cut oatmeal so we headed out about 7. Before the day was over, we were wishing we had left an hour earlier to get an early jump on the heat. The three words for the day were: hot, hazy, and brown. At the beginning of the ride we were no longer on the Palouse. Instead we rode through barren hills until the top of the first climb. 

The top of the first climb brought us back onto the Palouse where almost all of the wheat had already been harvested. I learned later in the day that wheat harvest was a couple of weeks early due to the unusually warm summer. As a result, the landscape was pretty barren and brown with hardly a bush or tree in sight. The day started off warm but by the time I got to the second climb it was down right hot and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky to give some protection from the hot sun. The haze due to forest fires further north in Washington and in Canada was little help. 

My legs felt good all day.  I rode easily up Alpowa Summit, the first 5-mile climb of the day and continued on with John after the 2^nd rest stop. We eventually caught up with Dan and Dani and we rode together until the 2^nd climb. Dani was struggling and I learned later that her legs were cramping by the time she got to the top. Several people showed signs of dehydration today, and both of my water bottles were basically empty by the time we arrived. The air felt cooler as soon as we rolled into Dayton just because of the trees. I was again impressed with the construction crew who told us where to turn so we could avoid the one-lane traffic.

Our home for the night was the Church of Christ. They had cold water ready for us all and we walked a few blocks down to the high school for a shower. The evening meal was the best potluck of the trip with numerous salads and other unusual dishes.

Tuesday we rode 74 miles from Dayton to Richland, which is part of the Tri Cities. As we headed out of town I settled in next to Lydia who told me she wanted to take it easy today. I looked down at my speedometer and said we were going 18-19 mph. Lydia doesn’t have a speedometer so she wanted to know how fast all the people were going who passed us. I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to have to try and keep up with them. We rode side by side talking but also moved along at a good clip and averaged 19 mph over the first 20 miles. 

Lydia took off from the first rest stop before I was ready so I set out again on my own wondering if I could keep up the fast pace on my own. I did until the next rest stop about 20 miles later. We had a bit of crosswind and I was glad when John suggested we ride together “as long as it’s not at the pace you were setting.” I was happy to follow him and he ended up basically pulling me along until the road turned and we had more of a tailwind. About that time, the landscape changed from barren fields to orchards and vineyards.

Much of our last segment was on a bike path along the Colombia River. 

Once we got through the industrial area at the edge of the Tri Cities, we rode through areas of obvious wealth. That was somewhat of a shock after spending so much time in rural America where barns are far bigger than the houses. The church we stayed at was on the top of a hill (which some contend is true more often than not). I was tired by the time we arrived and the church was a welcome sight. We were shuttled to a Gold’s Gym several miles away for our showers, which were among the best of the trip. The rest of my afternoon was taken up with laundry duty. Our evening meal was served by some of the youth of the church and the college interns. 

On Wednesday morning before we headed for Yakima, Melissa announced there were no more spare tubes in the trailer. Most of us had a spare tube with us and it turned out to be a good thing. I passed two people changing flat tires in the first 20 miles. Before the day was over, we had 19 flats. Though I had none of them, I did contribute my spare tube to someone who did and provided moral support on at least one occasion. The poor quality of the roads we were on could have had something to do with the number of flats. 

Our 82.5-mile route continued through the desert. The only green in sight was due to irrigation. This included the pasture. Evidently water is in abundant supply thanks to the Columbia River. Most of the valley was filled with vineyards and orchards of apples and pears. We assumed the trees with no fruit were peach trees. In the distance we could see Mt. Rainier and Mt. Adams. We were on the road by 5:30 but it was plenty hot by the time we finished. I made a wrong turn about 10 miles from our final destination so got in five extra miles (bringing my total to 87.56) and it was 97˚ when I finished at 12:45.

Our evening accommodations were in the cafeteria of a Catholic school. The meal was catered Mexican food that was quite tasty. I’ve become quite good at falling asleep before the lights go out and sleeping quite soundly despite there being more than 30 other people in the same room.

What's it like...?

What is it like to bike across the country with a group of 28-40 other people? 

Depending upon the time of day there are multiple answers to that question. Much of this past week I would have answered, "exhausting." We've been sleeping on thin (2") and narrow (20") therm-a-rests on a different floor almost every night. On a good night there are only 2-4 other people in the same room. On a not so good night we are all in the same gym (or smaller) and you hope the snorers are far on the other side or there is a loud fan to provide some white noise. Whatever the location may be, I rarely have control over when the lights go off or the alarm rings in the morning. Despite all this, I feel like I've been sleeping well since the first week of the trip. I guess I was tired enough, that it didn't really matter where I was. The introvert in me needs some time to myself and sometimes the only "alone" time I've been able to get has been on my bike. Add it all up, and earlier this week I wondered how much more I could take. A quiet room for an hour nap in Plummer, ID helped me feel more like my normal self.

My other answer to the question of what it is like to bike across the country is, "beautiful." Every day brings new scenery and I've decided that everything looks beautiful in the early morning sun. This week we rode 288 miles in 4 days and every day was different. (See Idaho post for details and pictures.)

I've also enjoyed getting to know both the other riders, and our hosts along the way. Tuesday evening our meal was provided by the Catholic church in Kellogg. I sat next to the priest who was from Mexico City and we had a delightful conversation about culture shock, the things he misses from home, what he loves about Idaho, and the quality of Mexican food in the US. On Wednesday during our first build day, there wasn't enough work for all of us to do. At one point I ended up sitting in the shade with Laurie, one of the Canadians who joined us for the week. We had an enjoyable conversation as we shared some of our stories with each other. At the end of our second build day the two of us ended up pulling weeds together and again our conversation was stimulating. As I said good-bye to her early Sunday morning, I wished she could stay for the final week of the trip.

Idaho Build Days

The mission of the Fuller Center is to provide simple affordable housing for those who can't afford a typical mortgage. The new home owners put in sweat equity hours and help with the construction as much as they are able. Once the home is completed, the owners pay back the cost of the materials at terms they can afford and that money goes to help someone else in their area who has a similar need. The Bike Adventure stops to help these local chapters of the Fuller Center to work on whatever projects they have going on. Thirty-seven sets of hands can get a lot of work done and 37 orange shirts descending on a community also brings some publicity with the hope that more local people volunteer their time and/or give to help meet the housing needs in their community. This week we had two build days.

Wednesday we helped the Kellogg Fuller Center covenant partner. Our main project was helping a family with 10 children put some siding on their home. They had taken 2 trailer homes, one of which was double wide, and put them together. The Fuller Center had helped them put a roof over the whole thing. The family had worked hard to finish the interior of their new home. It may sound like a great idea to have 37 people come help with a work project, but I learned this week that it is a lot of work to organize that many people so they can work efficiently. A big reason for that is that lots of tools are needed. Even with three crews working on three sides of the house, quite a few of us were standing around. Some of the group helped clean out a shed and then 11 people went to help on another project. Two of the ladies went inside the house and helped the teenagers clean out pet cages and catch up on the mountain of laundry that had built up. In the end, all of the available siding was put up. We could have done more, but the second load of siding had not yet arrived at the lumber yard.

Saturday we helped the Lewiston Fuller Center and Interlink with some projects they had. This was by far the best organized build day I was a part of and other riders who have been a part of many build days agreed. From my perspective there were two main reasons for that. 1) One of the churches in town works on projects like wheelchair ramps every 2nd Saturday of the month. They have done this numerous times before. 2) One of our riders from the area works at the school and had access to enough tools that every crew had exactly what they needed. The 37 riders were divided into numerous teams. Most of us either built or repaired wheelchair ramps. There was one paint crew that went from one site to another and another group went to the local food bank to do some labor intensive projects for them. I was with Mark, Susan, Lindsey, Arron, Molly, and Brett. Our project was to put in a wheelchair ramp for a woman whose daughter has MS. While the daughter doesn't live in Lewiston, it is virtually impossible for her to get into the house when she comes to visit. After our day of work, she will be able to enjoy a visit with her mother.

Bob was our local supervisor and it was obvious this wasn't his first wheelchair ramp. I learned that construction workers have their own language. He would rattle something off about how he wanted wood cut or how to put the pieces together. Mark, Susan and Brett would all nod their heads and go to work while I asked for a translation. It was fun to work on a project that didn't require being super exact so I was able to use some of the power tools. It was a hot day in Lewiston (close to 100˚) but we were blessed to work under a carport and to have some cloud cover in the afternoon as the sun shifted over Mark set up his camera to do a time lapse video so you can watch our 7 hour project happen in 1:24.

Idaho Rides -- Part 2

On Thursday we headed for Plummer from Kellogg ID. Our route was 55.6 miles and was almost entirely on the Coeur d'Alenes bike path. Built on a railroad bed, the ride was basically flat until the last 5 or 6 miles. We rode along the Coeur d'Alenes river which was almost perfectly still in the early morning.

The river eventually becomes a lake and our last rest stop of the day was right next to the beach. Several of us jumped in for a swim. I'm not a good swimmer in the best of circumstances so wearing a cycling jersey kept me from doing any laps. It was a great way to cool off.

We stayed at a small church in the small town of Plummer. My personal bit of space was in the nursery which had two fans. I slept for an hour in the afternoon and had a good night's sleep. The combination helped me through the rest of the week. This was one of the few times we needed to make our own evening meal. The dinner team with the help of Justin made a mountain of rice and an awesome chicken/vegetable curry.

Friday we rose early to try and beat the heat. (Go here to read what I wrote on the Fuller Center blog about our day's ride.) Our destination (Lewiston) was 94 miles away and it was supposed to be well above 90˚ in the afternoon. We had our morning route meeting and devotions with a beautiful sunrise to the east. We pulled away from the church at 5:30 in the cool morning air and it was dark enough that my first few pictures turned out rather blurry. 

Dani and I rode sweep for the day so our job was to keep everyone in front of us. It wasn't very hard to do until the last two segments of the day. For the first 20 miles we were part of a group of 10 which stopped to take a picture at the Washington sign -- our second to last state of the trip. Stopping for a picture always means a roadside littered with bikes, especially out west, since no one wants to get a flat tire from a goathead.

Our route today took us through the "Palouse" a rich agricultural area in Eastern Washington and part of Idaho. Change one letter and you have the French word used in "keep off the grass". In this case, we passed mile after mile of rolling yellow wheat fields. I knew we were back in farming country when I spotted a grain elevator. I don't remember seeing one during the previous two weeks. 

Tom and Lois chose to put our last rest stop by a field where harvest was in full swing. One of the truck drivers stopped and chatted with them. (I can't imagine why he was curious about a white van with a pink bike on top that pulled up and set up 2 coolers and various snacks.) This particular family farm grew garbanzo beans (to be used in hummus) and split peas in addition to wheat. Tom asked if it wouldn't be easier to farm if the land was flat. The farmer responded, "Then we would have less land."

Our route through the rolling hills wasn't too difficult. As the day went on the heat started to affect us. It was 88˚ at 10:30 according to a bank clock in a town we passed. All of us were thankful for the clouds that covered the sun most of the time. We stopped along the way to celebrate Melissa's 10,000 mile on her bike.

 

The most enjoyable part of the ride was our decent into Lewiston via the Spiral Highway, built in 1917. The grade is such that the cars of the day could descend the 2000 feet over 10 miles at 20 or 30 mph. A group of us arrived at the top of the hill together and the prospect of the descent was greeted with different degrees of excitement. As sweeps, Dani and I stayed at the top for several minutes after the others left. Neither of us wanted to have to use our brakes for anything besides going around the hairpin turns. The 2% average grade was actually too low to be a good descent. We had to do quite a bit of pedaling. It took me until toward the bottom to figure out that I could go around the 20 mph curves at at least 30 mph. As we descended we could feel the heat rising and a bank clock in town displayed 98˚ at about 1:30 pm. At that temperature, I was not one of the three who volunteered to ride another few miles so Molly could get her first every century.

Idaho rides--Part 1

Monday's 61 mile route took us through a beautiful rocky valley. The group headed out at a strong pace and I had to ask to make sure that my new bike computer was displaying the correct speed. I usually feel like I'm working a lot harder when it tells me I'm going 19 mph. I suppose the gradual downhill had a lot to do with it. I had a flat tire about 45 minutes into the ride and it was a few minutes before Gerry and Mike, the sweeps of the day, came up. Gerry was glad someone finally slowed down. "We couldn't keep up." It was above 100˚ in the afternoon but we were indoors and the church we stayed in had A/C.

One adventure on Monday was doing laundry. The local laundromat in Superior, MT was closed on Mondays which sent the laundry team 15 miles down the road. Long story short, the machines didn't work real well and there wasn't enough time to dry everything before it closed. After we got back from a great supper served by the Methodist church, we hung all the still wet laundry on the outfield fence across the street. A special treat later in the evening was the refreshing all fruit smoothies provided by Paul and Mary. They live near Superior and we had met them the day before at a church in Missoula.

Tuesday we rode from Superior MT to Kellogg ID. There aren't many route options in Montana and the locals had told us there was some serious road construction along I-90. Paul and Mary called around for us but weren't able to get specific information about the condition/width of the shoulder. After we all headed to bed, they took Melissa, our great leader, to see the route for herself. When she got back to the church, she redid part of the route. It involved more climbing, but no one minded as the new route led us through a thick forest and we had the road basically to ourselves.

The second climb of the day was on the shoulder of I-90 but was fairly short. At the top we crossed over into Idaho and I looked forward to the descent. The cement road, however, was in poor condition with plenty of holes. I did hit 40 mph and actually passed an RV.

At the bottom of the descent we got on a bike path that ran the rest of the way to Kellogg. It followed the Coeur d'Alene river and about 5 miles from our final destination I found a nice spot to dip my feet in to cool off. Others soon joined me.

We made our home in Kellogg in the middle school for two nights since Wednesday was a build day. The Fuller Center Covenant Partner there took good care of us and made sure we had plenty to eat and drink.

Townsend to Missoula, MT

Thursday we left Townsend for a short 36 mile ride to Helena. We were all looking forward to this short day which included getting to sleep in until 7 or 7:30. The church in Townsend made us a magnificent breakfast of pancakes and sausage. There were numerous comments about how glad we were that it was a short ride because we all felt like we had too much in our stomaches as we headed out about 9. I rode sweep with Michael. As sweeps, we were to keep everyone in front of us, and if we got to a rest stop or the end without everyone else going by first, someone was lost. With short mileage, it should have been an easy day. In reality, it was a hard slog into a strong headwind. Whether at the front of the pack or the back, it was a hard ride and I averaged a whopping 10.4 mph. The only pictures I took were at the one rest stop of the day.

I missed seeing the event of the day. Michael and I did see a couple of deer bound across the road, but we didn't see one that collided with a car quite close to a couple of our riders. We are thankful for that, but it was a rather traumatic event for those who saw it or were hit by small pieces of plastic from the car.

Once we had arrived in Helena, Brett bought a kite and throughly enjoyed flying it in the church parking lot in the evening. Helena is a beautiful little city spread out across a broad valley. I climbed up the hill above the church where we stayed and found a place to get a panoramic view.

Friday morning, we were treated to a hot breakfast of bacon and eggs. By the time that was ready, I had helped my chore team load the trailer. Lightweight sleeping mats and sleeping bags go in the back, the heavy bags over the axel and after breakfast the tubs of food and coolers are loaded in the front. As we worked, we enjoyed the early morning sun on Mount Helena.

Our ride on Friday from Helena to Deer Lodge took us over the Continental Divide. While it may not have been the most climbing we will do in a day, we did reach our highest point in elevation at just over 6300 ft. To get to that point we had a 6 mile climb. We had about 8 miles of warm up before the climb started in earnest.

Fairly early on in the climb, I passed John, who normally powers away from me on the climbs. He told me later, that he felt like his legs couldn't turn until I came by him and he was able to grab my wheel and settle into a faster cadence. Together we climbed to the top, stopping only briefly at a scenic outlook, which was definitely worth the stop.

Back on our bikes, I struggled to get going again. It was very windy and the closer we got to the top, the stronger it became -- and the colder it got. The first rest stop was at the top of the hill and I was eager to put my jacket on and we huddled on the downwind side of the trailer as we ate. The much-looked-forward-to downhill was work as we headed into the wind. I needed a firm grip on the handlebars to make sure the bike stayed upright in the gusts of wind. Gravity however did help and I hit the top speed of 29.1 mph. In the next section, John and I gained some companions and we settled into a reasonable paceline so we could get a break from the wind. It seemed the further we got into the valley the more beautiful it became and just before the second rest stop, we caught a glimpse of bigger mountains in the distance.

Eventually our route turned south and we had our first tailwind of the past two days. It was wonderful to feel like we were hardly working and look down and see we were going 17 mph.

We were well taken care of in Deer Lodge. Theresa, from the Presbyterian church, organized everything for us. We stayed in a Catholic school, ate a wonderful supper at the Assembly of God church that consisted of pork loin, baked potatoes, and a wonderful assortment of potluck dishes which had been brought by members of several churches. We got our 3rd hot breakfast in a row when the Lutherans fixed several egg bakes, biscuits and gravy, and some fruit.

Saturday morning dawned crisp and "chilly" according to one local. It was downright COLD to those in our group from the south. Joe, from Florida, doesn't own any cooler weather cycling gear so his only defense against the just above 40˚ temps was a long sleeved shirt. Almost everyone else in our group donned leg warmers, arm warmers and jackets. We even had our regular morning route meeting and devotions inside. Actually getting out on the road and cycling along with the early morning sun helped warm our bodies and the air.

Our 85.3 mile trip to Missoula was pretty much downhill all the way. There were a few bumps in the road just to keep us honest, but for the most part we flew along without too much effort. Actually, I didn't know how fast we were going. I went to reset my odometer and it refused to respond, so I had nothing to go on but the sensations of my legs and the speed of those around me. It was nice to have only a light breeze and we all made good time. Monica was excited to have set a new record for her average speed.

Our home for the weekend is the gym of a Catholic school. Other than not having much of a kitchen, it's been a great location, about a mile from the center of town. One of the first things we noticed in Missoula was all the bikes. They seem to be everywhere and there are numerous bike paths and bike lanes. Adventure Cycling has its headquarters here and most of their routes go through Missoula so we saw self-supported cyclists making their way through town.

This morning a group of us walked about 1.5 miles to Sovereign Hope church. I got there a few minutes after the rest of the group and the greeter handed me a bulletin and pointed me in the direction of the others. He must have thought that we were together since we were all wearing the same orange t-shirt. After the service we were invited to the all-church picnic at the park and we were told the bring the whole group. About half of us got on our bikes rode about 4 miles to join them. It was an enjoyable afternoon getting to know some of the people of the area. Once again, we enjoyed the generosity of God's people.

Week 5 of my trip will take us into Idaho with stops in Superior MT, Kellogg, St Marries, and Lewiston ID. We've been told the best climbing is yet to come, and we have two build days as well. So far I've ridden 1666.7 miles with around 123 hours and 40 minutes of saddle time.