We Didn’t Know What We Were Doing: The Conclusion

Ladies and gentlemen, friends, family, followers of our adventure, we are home, finished, and resting.It was a long journey, and I wish that I were better equipped at this hour to offer insights and lessons learned in such a manner so as to tie off loose ends and rationalize all that has impacted us since we began, but such trips and experiences require more time to sink in, and more time to make sense, and so I am left to merely tell the story of the last few days and hope that sometime soon I will fully grasp how I have changed and what I have seen.

(Entering Quebec on a ferry)

We left off in Levis, Quebec, at a high point on our journey, fresh off of a concert by Paul McCartney and a wonderful experience with our host. In the morning we were treated to a king’s pile of homemade crepes with sugar and syrup, espresso, and fantastic conversation. It was a thoroughly wonderful stop on the route. Then we left Levis.

The road out of town took us northeast along the western border of Maine, near the edge of the St. Lawrence River. We had planned on the next few days being exceedingly easy, as the route followed along with the Jet Stream perfectly, but unfortunately our timing was off, and the northeast was in for days upon days of storms, all of which were accompanied by extremely high winds...Perfectly opposite our direction. We tried to tell ourselves it was alright on the way out of town as that day was originally supposed to be a rest day, so we were making extra progress and setting ourselves up for easy days to come, but by then we had lost our powers of prediction. We labored for 8 hours to put only 60 miles behind us. The rain was awful, and our spirits were worse. We stopped for the night in St. Jean Port Jolie.

We woke up the next morning in a similar scenario, except for the increased rain, and the slightly more intense head wind. We had just 60 km to go until we turned east over the northern tip of the U.S., so we were ready to simply tough it out up to that point, when we could turn out of the wind. It was a long, hard morning, and certainly difficult to stay positive, but we kept our heads up and made the turn east after several hours of laboring. It couldn’t have been timed more perfectly. Right when we made the turn, the clouds almost seemed to part, and the sun came out through a gap in the overcast sky. We enjoyed a short climb and 10 or so miles with what felt almost like a wind advantage, which of course wasn’t, but we had been so abused up to that point that we were willing to take anything we could get, and then the road kicked up towards the heavens with a 6 mile climb. All of the sudden we were going the same speed as we had been in that terrible wind. It was frustrating, but still nice to be battling a slightly different resistance. Then the rain came back. There seemed to be a storm caught in between the peaks of the Appalachians that we had been making out way into for a couple of hours, and pretty soon it was almost dark enough to be night time. Visibility was nil, and the drivers weren’t ready to react to two cyclists, much less be patient with them in such conditions. We found ourselves descending into our stop-town with car and truck horns blaring, dancing over pot-holes every 10 feet, with maybe 50 meters of visibility and, at least in my case, almost no brakes. Scary situation no doubt, but hey, it keeps you focused, eh?

We found a place to stay and supplies at the local grocery store to make a pile of french toast...Which was fantastic. French toast is so good. So good. You should probably discontinue reading for a moment and make some.

The next morning we made our way east again, this time with the Quebec border within striking distance...A valuable mental victory. After several hours in the saddle and, strangely enough, a head wind, we made it to the border of New Brunswick. We were finally into our last provence, and we only had two more days of riding after that. It felt like finishing. We sat down just across the border for some PB and J’s and spent some time reflecting, but mostly pretending that Quebec didn’t exist. It was great to feel optimistic again, and great to be smiling. We soldiered on, putting as much space between us and Quebec as we could. We came through Edmonston, a big checkpoint on the day, and stopped for some beverages and distance calculating. It looked like just 60 miles to go on the day, and then we had a fairly long day the next day, followed by an easy victory ride into the Bay of Fundy. We got back on the road full of excitement.

Then the unthinkable happened. At mile 74, Eric’s chain snapped. It was one of the worst mechanical issues we could’ve been confronted with. Once it broke, we were left with very few options. We either needed to find a shop and put in a new chain pin, or Eric was going to have to replace the chain and the gears on the back wheel (when you ride on drivetrain for a long time, the chain stretches and wears the gears on the back wheel, so putting on a new chain would’ve made for some really awful riding). Either way, we needed a shop and a way to get to one. It was 5:30 pm. We used my phone to look up bike shops in the area and called a few, but they were all closed.

We tried hitchhiking to the nearest town with a shop, but it wasn’t working at all. We ended up having to get a cab to Grand Falls, short of our day’s goal, and without making any progress or having any guarantee of
success.

In the morning we learned that the shop did not have a chain pin, which of course is crazy, but true, so we looked to be in for a very interesting two days. After hours of intense logistical work, attempted hitchhiking, reluctant taxi and bus rides, we made it to the closest town that had a legitimate bike shop: St. John, which happened to also be our final destination on the Bay of Fundy. So, we were unable to complete the last 180 or so miles of the trip on our own. This was a very, very difficult pill to swallow, after working for 37 days through storms and sickness to stay on schedule for a successful arrival on the east coast.

But strangers, yet again, saved our spirits. On the bus ride into St. John, a woman overheard us calling hotels looking for vacancies and explaining our project, and she offered to host us for the night. Such hospitality is absolutely incredible, and really humbling - I honestly can't say that I would walk up to two smelly strangers and offer them my home for the night. And so we spent a wonderful night with Patti, in her wonderful house downtown, eating supper and dessert with her and sharing travel stories.

We awoke the next morning well rested and well fed, but sad to accept the abrupt end to our ride. Eric managed to use his chainless bike as a scooter, and we did have a chance to wheel around downtown St. John as we were rushing to recollect our bike boxes and gather our bus tickets and plane confirmations to get started on the next part of our journey - The trip home.

And here we are. Home again, unpacked, showered, rested and now restless all over again. It's difficult to find a moment to sit down and really understand what such a defeat among so many little victories really means to us, and it looks like we won't have much time to consider it in the coming days either. Eric is all set to head to Indonesia tomorrow to begin 10 months of English teaching at a school in the city of Sumatra, and I have some big races to get ready for - I suppose the wheels were never meant to stop turning.

3,796 miles in 37 days.

So our trip is over, and we are happy despite the unexpected ending. We have taken solace in reminding ourselves of what we originally set out to do. The goal was and still is just to embrace the changes we inevitably make to our lives and to the lives of others; to seize a summer and make it count. The point was to change, not so much to finish, fix, or complete anything. And change we did, both ourselves and a little part of the world, and maybe a few children's lives. The work isn't done, though our work on the bike may be - at least for a little while.

To all of you reading: we can't thank you enough for everything.

Bon Voyage,
Jason and Eric
p.s. Check up on this blog for updates on our fundraising progress and on the changes happening down in Chacaya. Keep spreading the word, and using your passion to make the changes we need to see, and telling us about it! Comments on this blog are always welcome.

A Visual Reflection on the Trip Thus Far

Our Last Day in the Rockies
With Josee Richard, our host in Banff, Alberta. As you can see, something about the mountain air made Jason and I grow several feet overnight...
Jason being pursued by the world`s largest dinosaur statue, in Canada`s Cretaceous Paleontology Capital: Drumheller, AB
Our first night in Saskatchewan
Our first day in Manitoba; past the breaking point of insanity after 5 days in the endless prairies.
A waterfall. Obviously.
What happens to a rear tire after 3,200 miles of touring.
In White River, the birthplace of Winnie-the-Pooh, one of Eric`s favorite stops.
The moustacheo`d Spandex bandito, Jason Haney, on Ahmic Lake, Magnetawan, Ontario.
With the wonderful Candler family! Oh, Magnetawan, how we miss you!
With Eric`s sister, Sara, in Lachute, Quebec!

Biking - and BAKING - for Schools in Guatemala!

So, we have 5 days left in this bike ride, barring any unforseen disaster. This is great news, and to follow it we have some wonderful news about our sister-goal, to raise $20,000 to build a school for Chacaya in Guatamala. The only way we are going to reach this goal is if our supporters spread the word about what we are doing and find creative ways to raise money using their own interests and passions, and I was just sent an extremely inspirational email from a close friend who provides a perfect example of this:
This friend and the youth she works with at her church in Nashville recently held a bake sale to raise money for this Chacaya school, and the bake sale brought in over $300! This is wonderful, wonderful news! They are also planning a yard sale soon, which will surely bring in another significant amount for this project. Absolutely fabulous. Here is a pic of some of the great people involved:


Keep up the wonderful work! This is the most inspirational thing we can hear on a trip like this!
-E

Vive Quebec!

Eric: `The wind. It can be your best friend, or your worst enemy.`
Jason: `Like a woman. A woman that turns out to be a man.`

Bonjour, bonjour!
Yes, we are in Quebec City. To be more specific, we are in the town of Levis, right across the Fleuve Saint-Laurent from the fortified citadul that is Quebec City, one of the only and oldest walled cities in North America, and one of the most beautiful cities I have ever seen.

So we arrived in Levis at 6:45pm after a heartbreaking day of potholes and headwind for 128 miles, and by 8pm we were showered, fed and situated at our couchsurfers`place. From Levis`shore, we could feel the pulsating energy emanating from the city: this year marks the 400th anniversary of Quebec City, and every night this year, a huge celebration goes down in the Place d`Arms. Tonight was a special treat: Paul McCartney was playing the city a birthday concert!

We watched the sun set on the glowing city as we crossed the river via ferry and made our way up the winding, snaking cobblestone streets to the centre-ville. Quebec City was a madhouse. We followed the noise until we came upong Paul McCartney`s audience, and right as we approached Paul came out on stage and began his set, and the Canadians went CRAZY. I`ve never seen so many people in one place before. We stood and watched the concert for a while, then strolled down the Rue Principale and observed the city life with some live Paul McCartney as a background soundtrack. Eric ate a McFlurry. It was beautiful.

After another beautiful ferry ride back to Levis, we met up with our couchsurfer, got to know eachother and played music together; this fabulous woman (who is making us crepes as we speak, bless her, bless her) we are staying with is an expert accordionist. The music was grand! A beautiful night`s rest followed, and we are currently prepping ourselves to get out into the headwind again. Only 5 days of riding left. 5 days.
- E

Greetings from Quebec!!!

We`ve made it to our second to last province. We are about to start out day 3 of our riding days in Quebec. Today, we go from Sorel-Tracy, right on the Ste. Laurent River, to Quebec City, a beautiful walled city currently celebrating its 400th anniversary; I`m sure we will have some stories to tell about our time there.

Since we last updated the blog, we`ve had some utterly amazing days, and some hard days. It seems like there is no in between on this trip - either you have a tailwind, the sun is out and the birds are chirping, or it rains all day and the wind keeps pushing you into traffic.

Our accounts of the past 5 days must be brief, because we gotta hit the road!

Day 28: North Bay to Magnetawan, 65 miles. A supreme headwind did its darndest to keep us from the serenity and beauty of Ahmic Lake and the hospitality of the wonderful people in Magnetawan, but our willpower - and Jason`s spot-on pace-setting - overcame the gods of wind, and we ended up having the most wonderful night of our trip thus far with the Candler family. I``m talking bathing in the lake, glorious glorious dinner with all the fixins, a _beautiful_ sunset (it made Eric`s top 10 list!), a beautiful night`s sleep, fantastic morning coffee on the dock, and a hearty breakfast with Ricky and his parents. Absolutely perfect, we had the hardest of times leaving.

Day 29: Magnetawan to Whitney, 110 miles. We left Magnetawan on a enthusiastic high, rode through the beautiful-but-hilly Algonquin Provincial Park, and ended up in Whitney, a small town renowned for its hospitality.

Day 30: Whitney to Arnprior, 110 miles. Today, we leaped off the Canadian shield and came just to the Quebec-Ontario Border. Another good tailwind, a beautiful sunny day, beautiful country side. Quality Inn and Suites was nice enough to put us up for the night, and the rest was very much appreciated.

Day 31: Arnprior to Montebello, 80 miles. Our planned distance for the day was much more ambitious than our achieved distance, due to 2 factors: all-day Wind, and Gatineau. The second we crossed the ferry into Quebec, we were unable to hide anymore: we were dumb Americans who didn`t know a lick of French. Well, Jason had prepared a little and could make it through a transaction with a gas station attendant, but Eric froze up like a deer in headlights and embarassed himself consistently throughout the day. Unable to ask directions and only able to guess at the meaning of road signs, we blundered our way through the insanely long city of Gatineau in a torrential downpour, dodging puddles that were concealing cavernous potholes as city-traffic regarded our existence with indifference, and sometimes malice. It literally took us 2.5 hours to get through that darn city, and convinced us to stop in Montebello for the night. While the low mileage was disappointing, we were delighted that we had managed to reach our filthiest point of the trip this day.

Day 32: Montebello to Sorel-Tracy. 113 miles. THIS was what a riding day in Quebec was supposed to be like. Beautiful cumulus clouds in the sky, rolling, wild fields alongside the highway, gorgeous small towns with large, ancient church steeples standing out on the horizon, and old men on horse-driven carriages slowing down traffic. It was almost too perfect to be real, but Eric`s sore butt reminded him consistently of the actuality of the experience. A ferry ride over the river landed us back on the south side of the Ste. Laurent River, and into the town of Sorel-Tracy. But the highlight of the day: Meeting Eric`s sister, Sara, in Lachute for breakfast! Another wonderful familiar face, Sara brought gifts of Skittles and shaving razors, and a really nice breakfast in which we caught up and regailed her with stories from our bike travels. Our delightful visit with Sara set us on an enthusiastic pace towards Sorel.

Gotta hit the road! Another update with come from Quebec City!

PS For you French Speakers out there, looking for a laugh: we have done you the courtesy of translating a selection of this blog entry into French using one of those awful online translating tools! Here we go:
Le jour 32 : Montebello à Sorel-Tracy. 113 miles. CECI était ce qu'un jour voyageant dans Québec a été supposé pour être comme. Le beau cumulus brouille dans le ciel, roulant, les champs sauvages à côté de la route, les petites villes magnifiques avec les clochers d'église grands et anciens se tenant d'hors à l'horizon, et vieil homme sur les attelages cheval-conduits ralentissant la circulation. C'était presque trop parfait pour être vrai, mais Eric`s le bout endolori l'a rappelé régulièrement de la réalité de l'expérience. Une excursion en ferry sur la rivière a atterri nous soutient sur le côté du sud du Ste. La Rivière de Laurent, et dans la ville de Sorel-Tracy. Mais l'essentiel du jour : La soeur d'Eric`s de réunion, Sara, dans Lachute pour le petit déjeuner ! Un autre visage familier merveilleux, Sara a amené des cadeaux de rasoirs de Quilles et rasage, et un petit déjeuner vraiment agréable dans lequel nous avons pris en haut et regailed elle avec les histoires de nos voyages de vélo. Notre visite charmante avec la série de Sara nous sur un rhythme enthousiaste vers Sorel.

Gotta a frappé la route ! Une autre mise à jour avec est venu de la ville de québec !``

PPS. Now, for you English speakers looking for a laugh, we have taken that awful translation, and used the same online service to translate it BACK to English. Here we Go!:
``The day 32: Montebello to sorel-tracy. 113 miles. THIS was what a day traveling in Quebec was supposed to be as. The beautiful cumulus jumbles in the sky, rolling, the wild fields next to the road, the small magnificent cities with the steeples of big and old churches being held of out to the horizon, and old man on the harnesses horse drive slowing down the circulation. It was almost too perfect to be true, but Eric`s boils it painful recalled it uniformly reality of the experience. An excursion in ferry on the river landed supports us on the side of the south of the Ste. The River of Laurent, and in the sorel-tracy city. But the bulk of the day: The sister of Eric`s of meeting, Sara, in Lachute for the breakfast! Another wonderful familiar face, Sara brought gifts of razors of Candlepins and rasage, and a really pleasant breakfast in which took us in top and regailed she with the histories of our trips of bicycle. Our visit charming with the series of Sara we on a rhythme enthusiast towards Sorel.

Gotta hit the road! Another updated with came from the city of Quebec!


-Eric

Getting off the saddle in North Bay

Hello, friends and family!
Yes, we are alive and on schedule, although there have been some close calls in the last several days when we were out of contact. So now that we have emerged from radio darkness on the far side of the moon, I'll tell you all what has been happening, and I will discuss a rather long streak of bad luck that was out of this world.
I can't believe that we have been out of contact on this thing since Dryden! Do you know how far we've traveled since then? Do you know how much we've changed? That was 8 whole days ago! 875 miles! I don't even remember being the person I was way back in Dryden. Here's how it all played out:

DRYDEN TO ENGLISH RIVER:
I woke up that morning with a fever, which was great, and we left our fantastic hosts' home rather late, having been sucked into the drama unfolding that morning on the roads of the Tour de France, but not so late that we were doomed from the start, and headed east to begin our pursuit of the Quebec border in earnest. The roads were nice enough. At that time, we were just beginning to feel the undulations of the toes of the foothills of the Canadian Shield, a now weathered, ancient mountain range in east/central Canada that may well be the oldest in the world, and the rolling hills and twisting roads were extremely refreshing having recently come out of the long, tiresome plains of Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and western Alberta. We had a light headwind, which is never fun, but we just kept chipping away at the distance and tried to stay motivated. One of the things that you learn on a trip like this is that when looking at a map, a name and a dot on the map does not necessarily mean civilization...Especially not in Ontario. When we left Dryden, we unknowingly dove into vast nothingness. It was really tough to find water along the route, which all you bike riders know is rather a bad thing, and it can be a real downer to ride that far and not even have the option of a stop for a snack. We were basically depressed by the end of the trip, and Eric had to shoulder a lot of the work on the ride after my sickness had drained me of strength. It began to rain in the afternoon and we made the decision to camp as soon as we had the option which, according to the map, was a place called English River, which was a closed motel, a closed store/restaurant, and a lot of construction workers hanging out and frying the day's catch of fish. We set up nonetheless and got some sleep after 95 or so miles.
ENGLISH RIVER TO THUNDER BAY:
One of our only signs of life in that area! Thunder Bay is an inexplicably large city of 500,000 people tucked into the northwest corner of Lake Superior, 115 miles southeast of our campsite in English River. We rode 30 miles in the morning to the next little town, where a restaurant was available, and we ate breakfast and brushed our teeth and took stock of what needed to be done. I was still sick, and we were both pretty tired. We were going to have to deal with a crosswind on the southbound portion of the route, and a strong one at that, but we were going to turn east into Thunder Bay with about 15 miles to go, so we were excited about having the tailwind for that. Around the corner where we made that left-hander to the east was a place called Kakabeka Falls, an extremely impressive waterfall, which was quite a sight for tired eyes. We spent a little bit of time there appreciating the falls, then headed into town where we set up for the night with a couch-surfer.
THUNDER BAY TO ROSSPORT:
This is where civilization and hope disappears. Rossport was a long ways off down a road that undulated rather intensely all along the water's edge, and into a very strong heawind. It took all day. Allllll day. Sore butts, people. I was a little bit healthier after having rested well in the Bay, but a full recovery was going to be made impossible by upcoming conditions. Eric did a great job sharing the workload in the wind with my weakened self, and he did so quietly while he was dealing with his increasingly burdened hind-quarters. Tough kid. We camped again in Rossport, and by the evening's end a cold front had moved in. In the middle of the night a storm announced its presence, and the rain started coming down, abusing the things that we hadn't water-proofed. It made for a cold, sad morning. But hey! We were camped right on the shores of the lake and before the storm painted the world grey, it was a beautiful sight! That was good stuff.
ROSSPORT TO WHITE RIVER:
125ish miles! Its fine to do 125 miles in one day. No problem. But after those two previous days, and after the distances we had covered prior to this day, and with the now consistent headwind, it was tough! There was really only one place that we could stop for food along the route as well, a place called Marathon, which was right near the mid-point. We ate breakfast 20km down the road from Rossport at a neighboring town called Schrieber, and then we headed out. The rolling hills were starting to get bigger now. The road between Schrieber and Marathon was all hills and no rest. Stupid 75 pound bikes. The scenery was gorgeous though. Lakes everywhere. Wildlife. Not a soul in sight. It was perfect when we could focus on it. We made it to Marathon, the only place we could stop for food, and ate at the one restaurant by the highway (Marathon is actually 5km off the highway, a distance we weren't willing to add to the schedule). The food was low in quality and quantity, and high in price. Lame. After the pseudo-snack we headed out on a 55 mile push to our destination with nothing in between. It was tough, but it seemed to go faster than I thought it would, which was nice. We were in White River by sunset. It was extremely cold that night, the coldest its been yet, and our camping gear was still wet from Rossport, so camping was not an option, and the two motels in town were both completely full! We went to a burger place to eat and think things over, and the next thing we knew the manager was going for a drive to find a couple he knew with a cabin that they would rent out for the night. The town was so small that he had finished his search in 10 minutes, and they pulled up to the restaurant right behind him. We followed them up the road to their cabin and got set up. There was even a heating vent right in the hallway floor for us to lay the tent on. We got a good night's rest, and we got to dry out all of our stuff. It doesn't get much better. Oh wait, yes it does. White River is the original home of Winnie the Pooh! How you ask? Wasn't A. A. Milne from London, England, you say? Well yes, Mr. Milne and his son Christopher Robin Milne were from London, but before Winnie became the beloved character of so many a children's story, he was a real bear. An enlisted man in the Canadian army had purchased a young black bear in White River and named the bear Winnie, in honor of his home in Winnipeg, Manitoba. When he shipped off over seas during the war, the bear was given to the London zoo on loan. Five years later, the loan was made permanent, and Winnie the bear became a favorite attraction for many visitors to the zoo, including Milne and his son. There you have it. White River's claim to fame. Needless to say, Eric was freaking out.
WHITE RIVER TO AGAWA BAY:
Another long one, and again with the headwind, only this time the hills were officially the Canadian Shield, so they were getting bigger. The first half of the trip was between White River and a town called Wawa, with virtually nothing in between, and the same can be said for the road between Wawa and Agawa Bay. Up and down we went all the way into Wawa, where we stopped for lunch and picked up so camping food for that night. Once we had stocked up, we shoved off and headed south through Lake Superior Provencial Park, a 50 or so mile stretch that ended with a campground at Agawa Bay. The ride was again very time consuming, and finishing that type of a day is all a matter of patience, and for Eric a matter of lasting longer than his butt. Which he was able to do. We arrived in Agawa in the early evening hours, and our campground was right on the lake again, only this time we had made it all the way around to the eastern shores. The lake was beautifully serene, and the sunset was spectacular. The Lake Superior area has been one of the most breathtaking regions we have been to...It would have been so much better if it didn't have its own weather system, bent on destruction. That night it rained. Only a little bit compared to out night in Rossport, but this time there was a lot of thunder and lightning. That sort of noise makes for interesting attepts at sleeping. It had passed when we woke up though, and we prepared ourselves for the day at hand.
AGAWA BAY TO SAULT STE. MARIE:
The ride out of Lake Superior Provencial Park took us farther south to our next big sign of civilization in the Soo, as it is called around here (Sault is pronounced Soo, so don't act like a tourist and strut around these parts saying, "Salt."). It was another headwind day, and one of the worst ones yet at that, and the hills were still quite intense. All of the obstacles ended up cutting the day short, as we had planned on riding into Thessalon, about 30 miles past the Soo, but ended up stopping in the city and making up the mileage the next day. Getting to the city was pretty great. We ate at a Boston Pizza again, which you can never get enough of, and set up in a Super 8 motel. Good food. Good rest. Good stop.
THE SOO TO ESPANOLA:
We woke up refreshed, and finally with a tailwind! And it couldnt have come a day sooner, as we had a 150 mile day lined up. We got out of town in a timely manner and started knocking off the miles and a very healthy pace. I was finally starting to feel better, and it ended up being a great day with some fantastic scenery. The farther east we went, the more the hills calmed down, and the faster the ride moved forward. When all was said and done it was 8:15 pm, the sun was out, we were done with the 150, and we had averaged 19 mph. Pretty good with heavy bikes and tired legs. Spirits were up again! Eric's butt was hurting, but other than that it was all thumbs up.
ESPANOLA TO NORTH BAY:
120 miles!! That's right....270 miles in two days. And another tailwind, though this time it was a bit of a crosswind as well, so we didnt move quite as fast as the day before. The roads were supremely treacherous. Trucks whipping by. Gravel shoulder. Thermal cracks in the pavement every 10 feet. Oh man, it was a balancing act. Sometimes trucks like to assert themselves and remind lowly bike riders how awesome they are in their gigantic rigs by forcing us off the road or by shooting dangerous gaps between us and oncoming traffic, but we made it through the gauntlet unscathed, albeit a little shaken up. The last 20 miles were wet! The rain started coming down hard as we approached North Bay, and we arrived at our host's house last night looking like cold, drowned rats. She must've been so pleased to see us in such close proximity to her clean house. She was very nice about it though, and we got warm showers and a great dinner before bed, so the day finished itself off very comfortably. Now we have a semi-rest day as we head south for aboot 65 miles to Magnetawan, were we will be staying with some friends before we turn east again tomorrow. Better get started!

We hope that you all are doing well, and we miss you a great deal. Take care!

- Jason

PS (this is Eric's transcription of a conversation we had as we waited at a traffic light, about to turn east, out of the 7-day headwind between Thunder Bay and Sault-Ste. Marie. It's pretty typical of most of our dialogue on this trip:)

Eric: Oh, man, that tailwind is so close, I can taste it. I can taste it!
Jason: I'm not sure you can taste tailwind.
E: No, you can, and it tastes great.
J (sticking out his tongue to test): Oh yeah, I guess you can. Mm. Delicious.
E: I told you so. It's like butter. Butter, baby.
J: I'd say it's more like water.
E: OK, sure, it's like water. Watahhhh. Mmmm.

Jason doesn't say anything.

E: That's the kind of conversation we should put on the blog.
J: What is?
E: That conversation.
J: Which one?
E: The one about tailwind, and how it tastes.
J: Oh. You mean this one?
E: Yeah, I guess we are still having it, eh?

By the way, where's Chacaya?

It's here >> Chacaya

Route Updated on Google Maps

Our planned route updated. Click here >> Route Map

Pictures from Chacaya!!!

~Readers:

I'm almost too excited to type. We just received word from David LaMotte, who just returned from a visit Chacaya in Guatemala. He has visited the beautiful village alongside Lake Atitlan several times, but this time he was surprised with the CONSTRUCTION SITE OF A NEW SCHOOL BUILDING!!! After visiting the children still meeting for school in makeshift classrooms on the lake's edge, he had a tour of the site for the new school, the new school being built by your donations, your support, and your encouragement! Here are pictures that David posted on his own blog (http://lowerdryad.wordpress.com/):

These pictures came as the most inspirational, supportive surprise to Jason and me; this is real. The people of Chacaya are thrilled with the progress, and they are unbelievably appreciative of all the people up in North America who have worked to make a world of difference in their community. I can't believe how far along the construction has come! The vision of a permanent structure for generations of Mayan children is realizing itself as we speak. Thanks to you all.

Today officially marks the halfway point of our trip. Roughly 2,000 miles down in 20 days, an equal distance and number of days to go. Another beautiful ride through the unbelievable lake-splattered landscape of western Ontario brought us to the town of Dryden, where Kate and James have blown us away with their generous hospitality (I'm talking ICE CREAM, people. ICE CREAM.)

We still stand at the halfway point of our fundraising goal; we still have $10,000 to go. That school is only half-built! I sincerely hope you will share these pictures with your friends and family; inspire them to inspire others!

These photos remind us of the reason for 12-hour days of riding, swarms of Saskatchewan mosquitoes, black bear encounters, being away from family for the summer (A quick hello-and-I-miss-you to everyone at my family's reunion!), knocking on strangers' doors for places to sleep and Eric's loss of 15 lbs since the start of the trip! And of course, what these photos portray add immensely to the beauty and meaning of Manitoba's unbelievable sunsets, British Columbia's glacial valleys, and our races with antelopes across Saskatchewan's prairies.

Half-way to our goal, a school half-built, the dreams of an entire village and two sunburned guys half-realized.

Please, keep it up, and thank you. -E

Hey guys!

Jason here, eager to fill you in on our time in Canada since Winnipeg!

As Eric mentioned, we had a couple of great hosts in the city, which was really kind of a shove into a series of motivation boosts that I will walk you through, one by one, and over a great deal of time, so that you can test your endurance too. Actually, I'm tired, so it will be short and sweet.

Here we go:

We left the apartment in Winnipeg and rode straight into some serious car-dodging situations as only the big cities can deliver. We stopped first, unscathed, at a bike shop where I pumped up my rear tire (I've been plagued with flats on this trip...in fact, I think that until the last couple of days I had only spent two or three days on a fully inflated rear tire, as our flat repair pump is inadequate when it is required to fill a tire to such a high pressure, which makes for some slightly more difficult riding). After the quick fill, we headed off in search of a restaurant to provide us with the proper riding fuel, and find one we did! I don't immediately recall the name of the place, but two sisters seemed to be running the show, and they were kind enough to offer us our food free of charge, which we accepted with glad hearts. We each had a very high-quality breakfast of eggs, hashbrowns, french toast, sausage and bacon, and coffee...Oh and of course, the best chocolate milk I've had on this trip...Perhaps ever. The food was amazing. We're talking glorious hashbrowns, and legitimate maple syrup all over that golden french toast...Good heavens, I'd better stop there before I head back to Winnipeg. They even offered us sandwiches for the road, which worked well with the fact that we would likely eat again soon, so we thanked them as much as we could and headed out into an 87 mile day into Falcon Lake (I know that 87 miles isnt that intense, but hey, we were ready for a little rest), and so began a three-day stint of low intensity enjoyment....Straight into a headwind on the great plains.
Oh what heartbreak! Luckily the road only maintained such an unforgiving angle for about 25 miles before it headed in a more northeasterly direction towards our destination, which gave us a wonderful cross/tailwind. We made great time the rest of the way, not to mention the sense of accomplishment we felt when we passed the sign for the longitudinal mid-point of Canada. The plains transitioned into lake country as we opened our stride a bit in the closing miles, happily pedaling the slight downhills of the Trans-Canada just before Falcon Lake. We arrived in town and followed our day's end ritual of jokes over chocolate milk before heading on to our host's home, a beautiful cabin-style house secluded from the somewhat touristy hubub of downtown. We ate some spaghetti for dinner, put on the movie "Closer," which was way more emotionally intense than anything that we were ready for, planned our route through Ontario, and went to bed. What a day, and what a night.
The night faded into today, as nights do, and there was work to be done. We ate some breakfast, recieved a very generous donation from our host, and took our sweet time getting ready for one of the shortest days of the trip, a fantastically relaxing and, as it turned out, beautiful 37 miles into Kenora...Effectively a rest day. We crossed the border into Ontario and truly appreciated the wonderful change of scenery....A delightful vacation from the horrifying monotony of the prairies. Oh, how we take a tree or two for granted.
We are now safely in Kenora, posted up at the Super 8, and now that I have seen today's stage of the Tour de France, I am ready for bed.

But before I go, we have a few fun things to discuss:

Adaptations to a life riding through prairies all day:
- Beer bets. That is to say, a list of "fouls" one might commit on a cross-country journey, and each one requires the offender to do penance in the form of buying one beer for his friend. Examples: First one to cry(we broke even, crying at the same time), first to get a flat (Jason might as well buy Eric a 12-pack), first to crash, first to smooch a Canadian (Jason gave Eric 3-1 odds), a long list of Tour de France bets, first to vomit, etc.
- Trading 5 mile pulls in the wind, giving the day structure, and providing us with interim goals.
- Counting Ground Squirrel carcasses (like counting sheep...There are as many as you can possibly imagine)
- Getting flat tires and accepting the fact that you will be riding on 50 psi for a long time.
- Stopping and eating PB and J's.
- Singing all of Michael Jackson's hits...Over and over, the way they were meant to be heard.
- Water
- A delightful in-tent camping game where, provided that you are bored enough, you open the flap for a count of 5 seconds, close the flap, and go to war with all the mosquitoes that made it inside.

The top conversation points on this trip, in order of frequency:
- "This wind sucks."
- "My butt hurts." - Eric
- "PB and J break?" - Whoever gets to it first.
- "Matthew Kanagy is awesome."
- "I don't care if he's crazy, Michael Jackson is incredible."
- "I understand your claim that the modern religious climate in America renders its populace susceptible to philosophical fallacy, but I maintain global economic trends indicate that..."
- "I hope we don't have to pay for this..."

Animal sightings:
- More black bears! A dead fox! People!

Number one goal of this trip:
BUILD THAT SCHOOL. Everyone get involved!

A brief message to the good people at Bob's Bicycle Shop:
Hey guys! I recieved your hello from my mother, and I just wanted to take the opportunity to say hello back! Rod, thanks for the call, its nice to get the support. Brad, I think its safe to say that we opened it up a couple of times out here. Brett, your ears are pierced. Everyone else, eat a lot of Moe's for me...Lauren is mercifully exempt. - J


I hope everyone is doing great, and we will be back for more soon! Night!

- Jason

A Visual Glimpse into the First Week

Eric reporting from Kenora in....Ontario! 3 provinces down, 3 more to go. Ontario is certainly the widest of the provinces, we will be kareening over its rolling hills and falling into its thousands of lakes for the next 11 days. There was a welcoming committee of black bears awaiting us at the border, which was a good sign that this province would kick some serious sore butt. More on the last couple days later, but for now, some photographs from the first week.

This is the morning of Day 1, in Vancouver, 6:30am. Ken, our wonderful host, stands with us as we prepare to dive headfirst into British Columbia.
Day 2: atop the 2nd of 3 mountain passes. Jason would get to the summit first, so he would have a chance to get some sick action shots of my panniers.

A typical scene at the end of a day; Jason strutting his kit amongst a menagerie of gear.

Much more later, once we load some more pictures.

-E

In Too Deep, Part I

Hello to you all!
A Quick Update of our progress:
We are currently in Winnipeg, on the morning of Day 18 of the Trip, mile 1,763 of the trip. So close to half-way!
We just spent a wonderful, absolutely perfect night with two CouchSurfing hosts, Dianna and Richard, who fed, took us out for candy, let us listen to wonderful music, and gave us great Canadian beer, and wonderful conversation (about everything from mustaches to polar bears to indigenous relations to my long underwear leggings). After a night of much needed rest, we are ready to head out to our next town.
The last few days have been tough. From Indian Head (the location of our last blog update) we moved 95 miles to Moosomin on the #1 Trans-Canadian Hwy, and we celebrated Canada Day with a welcoming pary of mosquitoes and a free dinner at Pizza Hut! Delicious. That night, we slept of the lawn of an extremely nice Chinese family that had just moved there from Toronto. The next day, we booked it out of Saskatchewan and into the province of Manitoba, ending after a long, hard, mentally trying day (115 niles) at the town of Minnedosa (whereupon our arrival, we witnessed perhaps the most spectacular sunset ever; sadly, because Manitoba roads do not have shoulders, we had to concentrate on not getting hit by trucks and could not take any pictures.) At Minnedosa we luckily found free lodging at the Valley Motor Lodge, and scrounged a late dinner from a local gas station. Yesterday, we did a long haul (135 miles) from Minnedosa to Winnipeg. We were tired. Enough said. But the warm welcome from Dianna and Richard made the day a supreme success. Again and again we find that the people we meet while on this trip will be the thing that pushes us to the east coast.

In other news, an article by Jennifer Torres was just released in several local newspapers on the Space Coast, including the Bay Bulletin. Hopefully this will go far in raising awareness about our efforts. Thank you to Jennifer Torres! Readers, show the article to your friends! Another press release came out on the Sewanee e-news, which can be accessed from the university's home page: www.sewanee.edu

More later, I am sre. But now, to breakfast!!!

Love,
Eric

To our readers: A Rally Call

Dear friends, families, and supporters:

First, allow us to give you a glimpse into the ethos that provides the foundation for this trip. To do so requires us to describe in a little more detail what the average day has been like so far:
The sun rises at 4:45am, and the sky is usually spectacular. We roll over and throw our sleeping bags off of us, trying to get a couple more hours of sleep before the heat and the bright day demand that we also rise. We step outside of the tent and look first for a sign of which direction the wind is blowing. During days on the prairies, when the scenery seems to be a looping tape of the same fields over and over again, the only thing you mind can really focus on besides your spinning legs is whether the wind is helping you or hindering you, or threatening to blow you into traffic. Within an hour, we are on our bikes. Our minds are busy recalling dreams from the night before, reciting the dialogue of funny confronation with interesting characters the day before, singing the tune of a catchy song, and wondering if our butts are going to last another 2,400 miles. calculating how far until the next settlement and whether our water supply will last. Every once and a while, we feel hungry, and stop to fix a PB&J sandwich (without question THE solution sandwich to any bout of fatigue or famine). We don't talk much while on the bikes; I am usually out of breath in trying to keep up with Jason, and the passing semi-trucks and hard winds make it impossible to carry on a conversation at anything less than a shout. So we gather conversation points as we ride, and while on breaks we share where our minds have wandered to during the last stretch of riding. We talk often, perhaps too much, of home, of old friends, of lost memories and people we wish we could see again; a trip like this, despite the constantly new scenery and faces, leads you only back to what and whom you left.
To cope with the monotony of Saskatchewan, we tend to set interim goals for ourselves (gotta make it to Martlach by 5, hope to get on the other side of Regina by 3, etc.). The last 20km of each day tend to be the toughest, mentally as well as physically, simply because the anticipation of food and sleep become overwhelming by 7.30 pm.
8-12 hours of riding a day tends to send your thoughts in interesting directions; mine often explores which mindsets are the best to adopt to make it through long days: do I concentrate on the "now," this kilometer alone, or do I try to frame the present within the scope of the day's 100 or so miles? Or, do I try to adopt a mindset that would sustain me until Day 39 or 40, a way of thinking that paces myself to the end of the entire trip? Or, do I let my mind float, feeling what it wants to feel, whether it be stubborn fatigue or excited elation, cynical pessmism or adrenaline-fueled optimism? What kind and extent of self-discipline should I use to make this trip a success? And then, it is impossible not to remind yourself that it is only day 14; what will my thoughts be like on Day 15? Day 20? 30? 39?

Luckily, for us, we love cycling. It has given us meaning before, and it has continued to be fulfilling in and of itself each day of this trip. We really are living a dream, a dream we have both shared passionately since our first year out of high school. We are cycling across a country - WOW! - we never thought we'd ACTUALLY do this. But whoa, here we are. Concentrating simply on our spinning legs, the maintenance of rythm, the maximization of efficiency, the invigorating sensation of easily earned speed, can sustain us for most of the demands of this trip.

"Most" is the key word here. This trip has been designed - this entire dream has been concieved - in such a way that merely finishing a century-a-day of riding for 40 days is not enough to call the trip a success. Yes, we certainly feel a sense of accomplishment when we reach our destination-town each night. We are proud of what we have done so far, and we will be proud of what we will have done once we reach the east coast. But the ambition, audacity and idealism of this trip does not stop at the 4,000 miles in 40 days. It also includes, of course, the building of a school in the Guatemalan village of Chacaya.

If we reach the east coast and we have not achieved our fundraising goal, we will be unable to justify the last 40 days of riding.

The 2 days in which we rode 295 miles were eye-opening for us. It was the most demanding stretch of riding the two of us have ever endured. When we reached Swift Current at the end of that 2-day stretch, we did not feel the sense of achievement that so often accompanies a hard day's ride. We felt, well, empty. And it was not just the energy we lost in the process. It was having done so much only to question what we are actually achieving. We may be getting closer to the east coast, but we don't see ourselves getting closer to our fundraising goal.

This trip is demanding. Our deep passion for cycling alone will not sustain us to the Atlantic coast; what we need to know at the end of the day is that we are not just spinning our wheels. We want that school built.

So many of you reading this have already given out of your own pocket to get us halfway to our fundraising goal and nearly halfway across Canada. We can't thank you enough for that. What we need is more people, more open ears, more open minds to join us in believing that passion is the first step in mending a fractured world. The strength of our project is that people only have to do a little to make a world of difference in the lives of the Guatemalans in Chacaya. $10,000 more will provide an education for generations of children to come.

Tell more people about Chacaya, about our ride, about what we need. Refer people to our website, our blog, the PEGPartners website. Try to tell them the idea behind what we are doing, how cycling across Canada to build this Guatemalan school somehow makes sense. Ask your churches, your rotary clubs, your newspapers, your neighborhood newsletters, your schools, your youth groups, your cycling buddies, your favorite restaurant, your neighbor to help. The communities we know and love CAN change the community of Chacaya.

As David LaMotte says at each of his concerts, you are changing the world whether you like it or not. Get in to it. Become intentional in how you change. Invite others to do the same.

Sorry to become so melodramatic, but hey, my butt hurts, and the fact is that we're in this now, the ride of a lifetime.
Tell others to join us!

Hopefully,
Eric

We Don't Know What We Are Doing: Part III

"If you can't build a robot, be a robot."

First, happy July!
Happy Canada Day!
Happy 4th of July's Eve'sEve'sEve! Headache.

It is very difficult to find the energy to find a computer or, once we've found a computer, to find more energy to update a blog, so let us apologize to our regular readers out there...It is our goal to get better at this.

With that said, we move into update mode!

Where did we leave off....Aha. We were resting in Banff, basking in the glamour of the mountain village lifestyle, living it up, hanging out in a hot spring, shocking the other tourists with the spectacular intensity of our tan lines. Good times. Time, it seems, has a very loose grip on the now, and tends to let it slip away.

Now is not the now we knew. That was then. This is now. Wonder how? I do too.

We left Banff for Calgary, which was a lovely and scenic 85 or so mile ride, mostly downhill, that took us officially out of the rockies; a transition that was both abrupt and emotional. The steep walls of the western american highlands gave way to the great plains, and the straightest roads on earth...which was exciting...at the time. Once in Calgary, we met up with our hosts, some couch-surfer students from the local university, and had some Vietamese cuisine at their recommendation. It is a beautiful city, especially from the saddle of your bicycle as you weave in and out of the large amount of pedestrian traffic. All of the houses there had such personality. Go visit sometime.

Then we left Calgary in a general east-northeast direction, en route to Hanna...The birthplace of the pseudo-band Nickelback...And how. We got 3/4 of the way there to our checkpoint in Drumheller, a thrilling dinosaur-themed town in the Canadian Badlands, where we had planned to visit the RoyalTyrell Dinosaur museum. The cheesy dino statues all over town had us very concerned for the legitimacy of the museum itself, but alas, it was fantastic. Ornithomimids, a pterosaur, plenty of ceratopsians, and a spectular re-creation of Dr. Jack Horner's T. Rex skeleton that had Eric captivated. Impressive stuff.
We left the museum and rode out straight into a beast of a wind storm...One so strong that when we made an attempt at the road out of town, we were virtually pushed backwards. We found a hotel that would put us up and decided to make up the distance the next day.

Which meant that the ride from Drumheller to Mantario would be 158 miles, and so it was.
We worked all day at pulling it off, surrounded by the most spectcularly mind-numbing scenery that you can possibly imagine, into a fairly harsh crosswind, only to discover that Mantario, despite being recognized on a national map, was one street and half-abandoned. We set up camp with heavy hearts and went to bed.

Mantario to Swift Current offered another long day at 137 miles, 30 or 40 of which were on gravel roads....For all you scholars out there, that is indeed 295 miles in two days. It was long, perhaps harder than the day before as a consequence of the day before, and hot. We did our best to stay positive and kept working until we finally arrived at dusk, which was too late to go door to door. With heavier hearts, we found the cheapest room we could, but at least that meant a shower.

Swift Current to Moose Jaw was a bit of a break at around 108 miles. Moose Jaw was the biggest city we've seen since Calgary, and quite a relief at that....It really is stressful being surrounded by nothing. Moose Jaw saw us feast like kings thanks to a generous sponsorship from the local Boston Pizza restaurant where, on top of his already stellar record of helping us out, the shift manager pulled some strings and got us into the local mineral spa for free. Fantastic. Best pizza ever. Great mineral spa. Camping in a stranger's backyard. Does it get any better? No need to answer that.

And now that brings us to today, when we rode from Moose Jaw to Indian Head, where we are set up at a camp ground and looking forward to heading on to Moosomin tomorrow, where we will celebrate our own version of Canada Day, likely by sleeping, although I am reminded of a tip from one of our friends in Calgary:
"What do you do on Canada Day?"
"Camp. Whatever. Go out into the woods. You can do whatever you want...And drink."
Sore bottoms up.

Notes:
Animal sightings - Two foxes, hundreds of ground squirrels (some dead), antelope, and deer.....Not to mention the many species of waterfowl, the occasional bird of prey, and this orange-winged black bird that intrigues me so deeply.
Total mileage - 1473 miles
Casualties - Eric (nearly...see below), Eric's butt, Eric's mind.

p.s. Eric almost got hit by a truck. The guy was a moron. More later.

Goodnight everyone! We miss you all!

Love,

Jason

Our Google Map Route

click here >> Route Map

"Dinosaurs AND Whales!!!"

Some Interesting Quotes and Statistics from Our Trip Thus Far:

{Listening to XM Kids Radio on plane from Chicago to Vancouver…}
Radio DJ: If it doesn’t need to be refrigerated, it isn’t cheese!
___________________________________

{An old man gets out of his car at the visitor’s center on Paulson’s Summit, just north of Grand Forks, and approaches us…}
Man: You boys going on a bike trip or something?
Jason: Yep.
Man: How far are you going today?
Jason: Today our goal is to make it to New Denver.
Man: Oh, well, you are definitely not going to make it that far today. No way.
Jason: Um…yes, I think we will.

______________________

A sign on the side of a fish tank in SameSun hostel in Revelstoke:

Wildlife Report:(we have pictures of most of these animals, but have yet to remember to bring our camera to the internet café with us, so these illustrations will have to do…)

Marmot (G. Marmota)

(very common along Hwy 3, the Crowsnest Hwy)

Moose (Alces alces)

(a juvenile moose walked across the road right in front of us. About halfway across, tripped over its own legs and faceplanted into the road! It just tripped! After a few seconds, it stood up again and kept going.)

Elk (Cervus canadensis)

Columbian Ground Squirrel (Spermophilus columbianus)

(all over the place)

Big Horn Sheep (Ovis canadensis)

(On the climb out of Golden)

Black bear (Ursus americanus)

(we were descending to the ferry between Nakusp and Revelstoke, and this black bear was eating dandelions along the side of the road. When it saw us, it freaked out and rambled into the woods). ______________________

{A couple of pre-teen kids pass by us in Castlegar, BC on BMX bikes...}
Kid: Are you two like, PROFESSIONAL bike riders?!
Jason: Um, sure!
Both kids: WOW!!!!
_______________

{Hanging out with Jonah and Finn, the sons of Todd and Janice in Golden, BC…}
Eric: Jonah, which do you like better, dinosaurs or whales?
Jonah: Um….hmmm…uhh….[thinks for about 15 seconds]…Dinosaurs AND Whales!!!!
[Eric and Jonah were instantly best friends]

-E

We Don't Know What We're Doing, Part II

We have made it over the continental divide!
Today is our rest day in Banff, Alberta, and our first legitimate chance at reflection, not too mention the much needed and therapeutic appreciation of the days, miles, and mountains now behind us.
When we last wrote, we were in Grand Forks, just north of the U.S. border, and about halfway through a topographical profile that was very much uphill, staying with Peter the carpenter. I think I can speak for Eric when I say that having experienced the days and moments since then, I feel a lifetime removed from what my watch tells me was just a few days ago. And now its time to fill you all in!
Buckle up! Or put your helmets on! Whatever is more appropriate.
From Grand Forks we made our turn north toward the Trans-Canada Highway via New Denver and Revelstoke, with a night's rest in each town. Each day had stellar scenery, and each day was almost entirely uphill.
Grand Forks to New Denver:
These rest towns are a double-edged sword. On the one hand, the fact that they are always in a valley offers us respite on the descents at the end of a long day, but on the other, such a setup invariably means a climb out of town in the morning. The road out of Grand Forks was no different. We both had tired legs, and various sore spots all over, so warming up and getting loose and comfortable is very important, however elusive when the road gets steep. We climbed up to Christina Lake on a moderate grade, not enough to hurt us, but enough to confirm that we were indeed tired. The lake was a glacial lake, a deep blue color inset in the high green hills, and quite a sight to behold. It was up in this region that we started to notice another climate shift, from the lower-altitude desert, to the higher evergreen mountains of the Rockies. We rode along the lake for a brief spell before the road turned up in earnest. A 37 km climb, and a comparatively steep one at that, took is higher still, up to the hilltops to continue making our way north. We moved away form the lake, and higher up on moderate, manageable grades, stopping were we could to top off water bottles, or replace the lost calories we had left strewn about on the lower slopes. The sun shown through, unobstructed for the first time, and gave the tan-lines some more definition, though I'm sure my mother would be the first to say that I didnt need that at all. Eric's are coming back nicely as well. An important badge of honor for any bike rider. Higher and higher we went, and up to another glacial lake, Slocan Lake, a long and deep resevoir, until we found ourselves in the closing kilometers. We climbed up along a sheer face on the east side of the lake, providing us with some of the most beautiful views of the trip, and taxing our legs further still, before descending through New Denver's neighboring town of Silverton, and finally into New Denver itself. We drank some chocolate milk and sat down for a moment before we made our way up to our host's home, high on a hill and, fittingly, only accessable by a very steep gravel road. The house was beautiful. Wooden, with a stone fireplace, and tall windows to allow one to look out over Slocan Lake and into the surrounding peaks...Certainly too nice for the likes of two smelly cyclists, and we were incredibly grateful for such an experience. Great people, great food, and great conversations offered us a valuable morale boost, and we set out from New Denver the next morning en route to Revelstoke.
New Denver to Revelstoke:
Again with the climbing! The road took us immediately up and out of town on what was to be a 95 some-odd mile day. We decided to split it into thirds, stopping in Nakusp, the hot spring/ferry accross the lake that was really just the dammed Columbia River, and the final push to Revelstoke itself. We had some food in Nakusp, and the Halcyon hot spring thirty miles or so up the road certainly felt refreshing. We took the highway north to the ferry crossing, scaring a young and extremely furry black bear from its foraging station at the roadside. It couldn't have been more than 25 feet from us, and we couldn't even see it until it bolted! Quite a sight indeed. The ride on the ferry was wind-blown and cold, but the sights were great, and I don't get to take rides of ferries that often, so it was a treat...Even though I was skeptical at first...After all, Eric's father had mentioned that there is no such thing as ferries, but no matter, I'm a believer now. The final 30 miles to Revelstoke were very tough, at first due to the headwind, and finally due the the mental strain of continuing uphill in cold rain for what always seems to be so much longer than it really is. We were relieved again when the road sloped downward into town, and we made our way to a great hostel to get some sleep.
Revelstoke to Golden:
Finally on the Trans-Canada, and finally turning East again! We headed out of Revelstoke and, you guessed it, up a hill. We were treated to a fleeting rainshower before the sun broke through, and a relatively short day at about 90 miles. We were finally pushing into the western slopes of the main ridge of the Rockies, with the brown peaks reaching abruptly above the tree lines, distinctively colored by the wonderful combinations of sandstones, limestones, and shale. The whole area feels so vibrant, young, and alive, and I think that such an atmosphere helped us maintain some composure as we continued to climb higher and higher toward the continental divide. We made our way into the first Rocky Mountain National Park of our journey, Glacier National Park, and over the famous Roger's Pass near the end of the day, and from there it was a fast and rolling ride into Golden. We got into town a little later than we would've liked, again, but still with plenty of sunlight left, and a little energy left over to put towards finding a place to stay. Todd Craig, a mountain guide, and his family put us up for the night. Todd is a jack-of-all-trades in the high hills, and a very nice guy, and Eric and I had a great time talking with him, his wife, and his two extremely energetic boys over breakfast. So much of this trip is dependent upon the goodwill of others, and without the amazing people we are lucky enough to meet, it just wouldn't be possible. So a special thanks to Todd and his family.
Golden to Banff:
Another reasonably short day, this one just shy of 90 miles, had our focus not on the ride at hand, but on the rest that awaited, and for anyone who hasn't done something like this, the cardinal rule is to maintain focus on each moment, or you risk subjecting yourself to one of the most mentally-taxing endeavors you could ever hope to undertake. Minutes stretch to hours, and the day cannot ever go fast enough to fix it. We dragged ourselves up into a canyon out of Golden and right into an exciting encounter with three Big Horn Sheep, none of which had any regard for the schedules of the drivers they were inconveniencing. It was very amusing, and they looked so extremely unimpressed by all of the tourists' cameras. We climbed for about 17 km up and out of the canyon and into Yoho National Park. The park was gorgeous. After some ups and downs through Yoho, we came to Kicking Horse valley, and a town called Field. We stopped for some coffee and food before making our push up Kicking Horse Pass, over the continental divide, into the Mountain West timezone, and into Alberta. Having refueled, we set out, and as tired as I was, I was determined to make my last climb west of the divide a good one, so Eric and I flew up the pass and over the top into Alberta and onto the eastern slopes of the divide. We had crested the high point of our trip, and it was such a relief to be done with the constantly uphill riding. From there it was a downhill ride into Banff National Park, and our checkpoint at Lake Louise. Having visited the town three years ago, we spent a rather long time there, partly for the sentimental value, but also to take care of some logistical stuff during appropriate business hours. We got everything squared away and headed to Banff, 35 miles down the highway, and the base of our adventures here in 2005. We were so happy to be riding on roads that were headed down the slopes! We made great time and arrived at our host's house with just enough energy to shower and head out for some food before bed. After a good night's sleep, we are still here in Banff, enjoying our rest, saying hello to all of you, and looking forward to another stint in a hot spring. It is wonderful to see the town again, and to remind ourselves why we like it so much here.
Tomorrow it begins all over again, and we will do our best to keep you all updated as often as possible. Hope all is well. E-mail us and say hello!

Have a terrific Jason and Eric's Rest Day!

- J

We Don't Know What We are Doing, Part I

Well everyone, thats three days down. We left Vancouver two days ago and knocked out a flat 96 miles to Hope, British Columbia, at an extremely healthy pace, especially considering the lengthy stop at the Sasquatch Cafe, a delightful establishment conveniently tucked into the forest along highway 7. We were there, but nobody seems to believe that it exists, and my blurry photograph has led people to conclude that its a hoax...But hear me now, the size of that basket of french fries was no joke.
A friendly man who owns a BBQ in town was kind enough to let us set up camp out back, and so, surrounded by the lush greens of the Canadian rain forest and distant snow-capped peaks, camp we did. Sleep was tough to come by as the precipitation commonly associated with a rain forest made itself known in the night, but we woke up rested enough...just a little soggier than we might have wished. We packed up camp and headed east into what we thought would be a mildly-rolling 120 mile day. 56 km and 5 hours later we were two mountain passes in and 4,000 ft higher, scratching our heads. Those 65 pound bikes are rather tough to pull up a hill. We ate some food and pressed on all the same, despite what was a profoundly discouraging morning. We made it into Keremeos, British Columbia, our destination, with just an hour or so of daylight left, cutting it a little closer than we would like, but we were pleased with conquering such a long, extraordinarily hard day (there were more mountains than just those first two passes). On the lighter side of yesterday's happenings, we did see a juvenile moose cross the road from right to left, inexplicably fall down in the left lane, gather itself, and then continue off into the forest to pursue what looked to be a very clumsy life. Ah, the wonder of nature.
We awoke in Keremeos this morning with a 107 mile day in front of us (in the end it actually turned out to be closer to 115), and a revived zest for conquering challenges after having completed the day before. Rolling hills led us out of the town and up toward the first pass. No big deal. We descended into Osoyoos, a beautiful lakeside city surrounded by stunning mountains. So far so good. We ate some food, and were told that there was a climb out of Osoyoos, but from there it was mostly flat into Grand Forks, today's endpoint. Optimistic, we mounted our heavy steeds and headed to the hill. Here's were it gets crazy. We went up for about 15 fairly steep kilometers, sweating underneath the northern desert sun, and the mountain appeared to be at its highest. A tourist's lookout added to the feeling of completion. We joked around a bit, snapped some fantastic pictures, put on some warmers for what had to be an upcoming descent, and headed out again. Just around a turn, the road kicked up, and the mountain revealed another very large section that we simply couldn't see before. It seemed like it would not end. At least four more times (the whole memory is rather blurred) we were sure that there was no more sky for that mountain to fill, when it swept to the right or left, and kicked again. Eric estimated it to be nearly 30 km, and my legs did not disagree.
The descent was virtually non-existent as we stayed atop the hills, rolling our way toward Grand Forks. Small climb after small climb drained us little by little, until there were 14 kilometers to go, and we felt like we might have 10 more in us. I was in rare form, unsure in those moments whether or not I was even there. And then I felt something odd. Wind! Wind sweeping rapidly over my face! We were on a descent! Mercy! The road twisted and turned downhill until we swept around the side of the mountain to reveal the town of Grand Forks below. I can't even express that feeling of satisfaction.
We arrived at sunset at the home of our host, Peter, a Carpenter, to find that he had prepared a meal for us. His hospitality has been a tremendous boost.
Tomorrow is a new day, and a new challenge. Will we conquer it again? Will it conquer us? Tune in next time to find out!

Goodnight everyone.

- Jason

The Race Is On

Well, when we were walking off our plane into Vancouver, Eric realized he had forgotten his bike shorts.

June 16, 9:39pm: 8 hours and counting...
Eric found some bike shorts. Preparing to go to sleep, then to wake up and do the first 94 miles of our cross-Canada cycling trip!
The first day will take us out of Vancouver, BC, following a fjord and a braided river up Frasier Valley to the small mountain town of Hope (what a name!)
We are looking at our bikes, packed with gear, and we are reflecting on the year of planning that went into this trip.

Our bikes are heavy.

Already, in our two days in the Vancouver, we have been stunned moreso by the hospitality of strangers than by the beautiful scenery. It's the people in the places, not the places themselves that make an adventure meaningful. We predict that we'll remember the people we meet and tell about the Guatemala School Project more vividly than the mountain passes we pedal over.

A reminder: 3,950 miles in 40 days. $10,000 more to reach our goal.

Wanna race?
We challenge you to spread the word and help us reach this goal before we reach the Atlantic.

On your marks..

love,
Eric and Jason