A good bit has happened since Rochester.

We dipped into Canada and saw Niagara Falls, and I’m really ambivalent about the area. The falls themselves are remarkable, but the actual city of Niagara Falls was pretty forgettable. Maybe we went to the wrong part, but it was super touristy, loaded with Applebees’ and other chains, and it just didn’t have a distinct culture. I could be off on this, but I was content to see the falls and take off.

That same day we dipped through Buffalo. Again, we’re often in places for so short it’s hard to do all there is to do, but Buffalo felt like a city trying to trend upward. A lot of parts felt old and industrial, and other blocks were modern and really beautiful. The only thing I know for sure about Buffalo is the food there is great. We all went out to Anchor Bar, the self-proclaimed home of the original Buffalo wing. I washed down a Buffalo-style chicken sandwich with a Labatt Blue before taking off the next morning.

A few days later I had the joy of celebrating my 23rd birthday by biking 100 miles out of New York, through Pennsylvania, and into Ohio! There were thunderstorms, sunny skies, cheesecakes, flat tires and more. As bizarre a day it was, I had a great time and am thankful for everyone who helped make it special!

The real celebrations came the next day as we rode into Cleveland for a day off. Forget everything you’ve heard about Cleveland, because it’s awesome. At least 25th Street is awesome. Everyone is super friendly, the weather was perfect, there are tons of local bars and restaurants, and the city certainly had it’s own unique flavor. Had I been in Cleveland in January instead of June I might be arguing a different point, but Cleveland in the summer is definitely worth visiting. After riding along Lake Erie, past the Browns’ stadium and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, we stayed a brand new hostel just a stone’s throw from downtown.

In Cleveland, we hung out with some hilarious and admirable MS patients, ate a ton of ice cream, hung out in a newfangled hostel, drank peanut butter stouts and chocolate porters, and really let our legs rest up.

We have four 80+ mile days ahead of us, so it’s time for me to go now!

It took me seven years to make it back to Rochester, but I finally made it, and it was as memorable as it was in 2007. Instead of going to Warped Tour to see Circa Survive with my best friends, I rode into town and past the same street corner Tim, George, Neil, Amir and I hung out at all those years ago. The rest of my time in town was as serendipitous as it was bizarre.

We were originally scheduled to ride the majority of the day adjacent to the Erie Canal, but after passing through Fairport’s annual festival, Joe, Kevin and I went a bit off-route since Rochester was just too intriguing to heedlessly ride by.

Minutes after passing Brighton, we saw a group of cyclists turn into a fire station a block ahead. Turns out they were riding with 4k for Cancer, another nonprofit which organizes bike tours! They were all super friendly and even though they couldn’t go grab beers with us in Rochester, we’ll be crossing paths again in Minneapolis where we’ll atone for the missed good times today. The Rochester Fire Department even gave us a tour of their station in the meantime. I asked if I could slide down the pole. They said no.

I called up Tim, my best friend since fourth grade who grew up in Rochester, and he gave us some counsel as to where we ought to go, and we headed to the Genesee Brew House in the High Falls district of town. A flight of beer and conversation with the barkeep later, we finally left town to rendezvous with the rest of the team.

All this recent madness started in Old Forge, New York last Thursday. When we ride into most tiny towns of ~1000 people, we never really know what to expect. Sometimes there’s nothing more than a corner store and gas station. Sometimes they have downtown areas, happening bars and more. Old Forge was dynamic despite it’s small size and population. We had some intel from a friend who’s from the area about which bars and parts of town are best, so we headed into town and ended up on a rooftop bar in the heart of downtown Old Forge.

Had we rolled into Old Forge on the weekend we would’ve boogied all night, but we had an 80 mile day ahead of us the next morning so we headed into camp and our sleeping bags earlier than we would’ve liked.

80 miles and 18 hours later, we approached our next monumental body of water. I had gone nearly 23 years with only seeing the sunrise over water, but the first time I laid eyes on a Great Lake was also the first time I saw a sunset over a body of water. Before closing out the night with s’mores by the fire, we went by Lake Ontario at the perfect time.

While the view and area were gorgeous, the real calamity started the next night in Sodus Point. It’s a total marina town and we learned early on which bar to go to that night. About half of the Northern Tier team went out and we had a great time champagning and campaigning at Captain Jack’s. We camped out a stone’s throw from Lake Ontario and Drew caught some great GoPro footage of us running into the freezing water after a long, hot day of riding. We met a bonzai tree master who has five dachshunds. Ipso facto, Sodus Point showed us a good time.

Meeting the locals, checking out town, and bonding with teammates at rest stops/camp is what makes the trip so magnificent. Riding itself is fun, and hitting 48mph on downhills is a thrill, but the extracurriculars are my favorite part.

I feel pretty good. Riding with a high cadence changed my experience for the better instantly — pedaling faster, not harder really shrinks climbs and keeps me riding with a great rhythm. My saddle’s done my butt and I very well, and my tan lines are on their way to contrasty glory. In the next three days we’ll see Niagara Falls, roll into Buffalo and I’ll have my third 21st birthday! Exciting times are ahead, but for now I’m enjoying this access to electricity, internet and shelter!

 

We’ve all come to roost in Middlebury, Vermont for our first rest day after 29,000 feet of total uphill climbing in our first six days of riding. That figure may catastrophize things a bit as we’ve also been able to descend the ~5.5 miles of straight climbing, but sleeping in felt great and much-needed. I promised more, better pictures, and here they are!

New Hampshire and Vermont have been much more scenic and fun to ride through than Maine. The weather’s been fantastic, and though there’s been literally miles more of climbing, the views and subsequent hill-bombing are worth it. Camden, Maine sticks out in my memory as the coolest little town we rode through there, and I regret not catching a few pictures of it. We were welcomed into Vermont at Thetford, a tiny town filled to the rim with astonishingly friendly people. The community center had prepared us a buffet of food, they had cold towels waiting for us at the finish line and they even cheered us on as we rode in. They opened their houses for us to shower and do laundry, and I really can’t express the kind of gratitude we all have for them. Take a bow, Thetford community. Ya’ll are something else.

I’m writing this from St. Stephen’s church in Middlebury which is an adorable little town with a rad downtown area. Tomorrow we’ll wake up, and 16 miles in we all hop on a ferry to float over to the motherland, New York! We’ll be riding in New York for a good while and will even go by Niagara Falls within a week or so, which should be immense. Drew’s GoPro has been handy, and I’ll try to get some footage edited and uploaded ASAP. For now, here are some photos of our barracks at St. Stephens and Middlebury.

Editing video is a pain and I’m not very good at it but there’s some hilariously awesome stuff on footage, so I’ll get to it. In the meantime, we’ll be at the local pub savoring these restful days!

 

 

Three days, ~200 miles and about a dozen bananas into the trip, and I’m sitting in a quaint little lodge in Naples, Maine. Here’s my view as I’m writing this:

The whole trip began when we left Blacksburg to head to Bar Harbor, Maine last week. While the drive was seemingly never-ending, it was a grand old time and really helped build anticipation for actually riding. Bar Harbor is a fascinating little town. Their downtown area is loaded with ice cream parlors (which I’m sure rake in the dough during the winter), pubs and other little shops.

Acadia National Park is right in Bar Harbor so we poked around there and caught some incredible views. 

 

After a day of hanging out, orientation and other general preparation in Bar Harbor, we hit the road! I wasted no time making some rookie mistakes. I pushed myself waaaaay too hard the first day riding, and also forgot to eat. Burning 3000+ calories a day is great. Burning 3000+ calories with an empty stomach is a one-way ticket to feeling bloody terrible. I “bonked” out, which entails cramps, lightheadedness, headaches and more. It was miserable, and I hope to never feel that way again. But after a good nights sleep, a lot of food and even more advice from some of the trip’s veterans, I was good to go. I haven’t been as good at taking photos as I’d planned, so here are the only decent shots I’ve gotten.

Our internal clocks are pretty much daylight-dictated. When the sun’s out, we’re up and going. When it goes down, we pack in and hit the hay. Each day’s ride is broken into three separate legs of ~20 miles, with designated rest stops at the end of every leg. That’s where we all rendezvous and kick it, and they’ve been a blast. To keep from feeling overwhelmed, I’ve just been concentrating on getting to the next stop. 4295 is a boatload of miles, but 20 miles at a time is refreshing and keeps me short-sighted.

After my body’s dilapidation on day one, I’m now priding myself on being a member of the caboose squad. Keeping the pace down, stopping to smell the flowers (literally), and rolling into camp later rather than sooner keeps energy and morale high, and I haven’t even come close to bonking. Despite absolutely loathing the cold, camping has been pretty rad since my sleeping bag’s been keeping me warm and I’ve generally been asleep before my head hits the pillow. Showers, shelter, laundry, and amenities are coveted, and I’m getting used to being sorta gross all the time pretty quickly. I normally cut my hair at least twice a month but I’m just gonna let it grow and do whatever, in an attempt to be able to look cool in a headband. I don’t anticipate this going well.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little homesick. I was in a very comfortable routine at home through the winter and spring, and I got flung out of it in a moment’s notice. But I’m adapting more and more each day, largely because of my incredible teammates, friends and family. We are a fascinating group of people. A former professional triathlete, a German doctor, a former photographer for Set Your Goals, a self-proclaimed “sassy Irishman,” and a retired member of the Air Force are just a few of the characters riding.

And I cannot end this without a huge thanks to all of my friends and family. It’s a tired cliché but you guys keep me going with the crazy amount of love and support you’ve shown. It’s really, really humbling. Anyway, It’s 9 PM which means it’s past my bedtime. I’ll be back on here soon with more, better photos, so until then, adios!

 

I’m either currently in, or poised to enter post-grad limbo, depending on your participle of choice. After walking at graduation, the fancy new video board in Cassell read something like, “Congrats Class of 2013!” So I turned to take a picture, thinking it’d be a nice way to capture the moment. This is what I got.

Symbolically kicking off my life as a graduate: upside-down, blurry and completely incoherent. But I actually was able to pick up all my spaghetti and get my life together rather quickly.

The night after graduation I poetically ended my time as a writer for the Collegiate Times by covering the Virginia Tech-VCU game at the Richmond Coliseum. If it were anything like my college decision, VCU would’ve hopped out to an early lead, only for Tech to storm back before stealing a victory as time ran out. Instead, VCU opened the game with a 31-0 run en route to battering Tech, among every other Virginia school last season. Regardless, it was really cool to watch the two colleges I went to from press row.

A week after that I started interning at RVA Magazine. The first slide of the welcome presentation just wrote “Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate,” which translates to “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.” It’s been a joy working and writing for them in Richmond, and not at all like living Dante’s Inferno. I owe Brad, Andrew, Tony and everyone else at RVA Mag a huge thanks for the opportunity. Thanks to them I’ve been able to diversify my writing like crazy, break a story on my own for the first time ever, learn the nuts and bolts of reporting, and even model for American Apparel. They’ve helped me cross so many things off my bucket list, and for that I’m forever grateful.

Shortly after that, I picked up a job as a valet out in the West End. Not the most glamorous job but it’s far from being a poopsmith, and it’s helped me fund so, so many poor sneaker-buying decisions. After that, I took a position maintaining a blog for VCU’s Department of Special Education and Disability Policy. You know how they say if you’re ever the smartest person in a room, it’s time to find a different room? I will never have to find a different room at this job. I owe Dr. Colleen Thoma a colossal thanks for trusting me to pioneer the position, and I wish I were around to see it through this summer.

It’s a bit of a weird feeling not being a student for the first time since the 1900’s, but I don’t feel too different from when I was a student. Not living within earshot of my best friends is the biggest bummer, though hanging out with this little weirdo all the time has been pretty great.

Maybe I should stop using semesters as a time frame of reference, but this spring semester has been a ton of fun. There’s no one I’d rather cure hangovers at Joe’s Inn with than you guys, and I’ll always feel inclined to try to sing Mr. Jones whenever a karaoke machine lends the opportunity because of you goons. Playing Halo (but mostly goofing around) with Miles has been hysterical and the only reason I haven’t been going temporarily insane on weeknights.

Now, I’m so, so close to dipping my tire in the Atlantic up in Bay Harbor, Maine with Bike the US for MS, and my goodness has this crept up on me. Fundraising has challenged me in ways I’ve never been before, but it’s as rewarding as anything I’ve done. It feels a bit surreal right now — the idea I’ll be riding across the country not only for a great cause, but also with two of my best friends (You should absolutely donate to Joe and Drew!). I’ll be posting on here as much as possible along the way, and I promise to post plenty embarrassing photos of all three of us.

I haven’t been this excited about something since when I first went to Woodward in like ninth grade. After nearly having an emotional episode as I swiped away more money than I ever have before on a beautiful, brand new Cannondale Synapse, buying all the other ancillary gear has really given the trip a feeling of realism. Yeah, I signed up for this months ago, but it’s not until now that it feels like it’s actually happening.

A memorable pantomime at beautiful Hilton Head, a much-needed return to Blacksburg, graduation parties aplenty, and bittersweet hugs and goodbyes. These things, a proper sendoff maketh. And a proper sendoff I’ve had.