I have a new bike!

I went to a bike shop called CycleSmith's, down Shelbyville Road in Louisville, just on a whim. I talked to Brian, the person in charge there, and he was very knowledgeable and approachable, which was great for a bumbling idiot like me. I had a look around the used bikes upstairs, found one Brian said would be good for my budget, three sets of seven gears, in great condition from one previous owner, fully equipped with fenders, rear rack, and bottle rack. $275. I enlisted my mom to pay for it, since I don't yet have the money, and Brian said to expect any used bikes to be gone quickly. She said she would (public thanks to her).

So here's the thing.

It's taking me a bit of time to get used to it. Part of it is that the handlebars are lower than I'm used to, combined with the seat being much higher than I'm used to. I now have to actually get off of the seat when I'm stopped, standing over the middle bar, then use the pedal as leverage to jump back to the seat to get moving again. I wasn't aware that was how high the seat ought to be. It took me a handful of tries to get used to it before riding the bike home from the shop. Since getting it home, I've taken it on a few laps around the nearby mall. It's a very smooth ride compared to what I've had previously.

It'll be interesting to see what it's like to ride it over the next several days. I'll be developing a bit of upper body strength, for possibly the first time in my life.

Geoff is Still on a Bicycle

I just though it would be a good idea to post here, largely since it's been a few months since my last posting, and I hadn't really concluded anything or made sure anybody reading thought that I wasn't dead.

I'm not dead, I've still got my bike, and I'm now back to using it for purposes far more mundane than gallivanting around the country (at the moment).

I've got a job at a Kroger in Louisville, and I'm playing music around town while I'm at it, scrounging up money and having some fun with old friends. I'm biking around town; my job is six miles away from where I live, so I bus there and bike back, since the buses conveniently have bike racks in front and the road to work is inconveniently and uphill slog the entire way. Street-biking conditions in Louisville are really kind of ludicrous, which in some cases I'm grateful for, since it's forcing me to be more thoughtful and aware of what I'm doing, but on the other hand makes me feel bitter about how Louisville is "trying" to be more accommodating to cyclists and pedestrians--my ass. Just like everywhere else in America, Louisville treats non-motorists like third-class citizens. Luckily, the drivers as individuals are somewhat responsible people. I've only been honked at a couple of times since Saturday.

As for traveling by bike, while I'm rooted here for a little while, I figure I'll be back on the road before too long. Since I've got a vague amount of financial security, I'll be saving up for a better bike (I'm still using that Walmart clunker from last year). I'm thinking within the next year or two I'll want to find my way over to Iceland for a while--bike from here to Boston, have a plane ticket over to Iceland for under 300 USD, probably cycle the circle road around the exterior of the country. It would probably take a good bit less than 2000 USD to do the whole round trip if I do it right. I don't know. It's something to research a bit.

Anyway, that's where I am at this time: putting things in place for future adventures. And while it pains me to wait at all, it does excite me to be planning something a little further down the road.

To Louisville, Day 3 - Louisville!

I’m finally in Louisville. I’m staying at an apartment that a couple of my friends just moved into, and there is not yet any internet here, so this is being posted a few days later. Regardless, here’s what happened on the last day.

I woke up, still in my tent. It was one of those nice, foggy, crisp mornings, with dew everywhere. I packed everything up at a deliberate pace, and set off after a breakfast that cost far more than it was perhaps worth--the place where I stayed was behind a building that also housed a Denny’s. In any case, I had a spectacular hash, with eggs and coffee to boot.

I kept pedaling. I missed a turn that was evidently crucial to avoiding the ever-malevolent Route 60, so I wound up on 60, after asking directions to Louisville from people who had obviously never traveled any distance by bike in their lives. It turned out to be yet another time I had been the recipient of hospitality for which I hadn’t really asked.

Route 60 (Shelbyville Road) started out well enough: three or four lanes, often with a sidewalk. But, as with my previous 60 experience, it gradually narrowed until it was two lanes with neither shoulder nor sidewalk. It was slightly less busy than my initial 60 experience, but ultimately, I pulled off the road, then saw, not only a house, but a house with a pick-up truck in its driveway. I resolved to ask whoever lived there if I could hitch a ride from them. It turned out, though, that I didn’t have to go that far.

As I was walking my bike up the driveway to the house, a truck pulled up to the driveway, the passenger window rolled down. I walked over. The man driving asked if my bike had broken down; I said that it hadn’t, just that I was beat and the road was doing me no favors, and that I’d greatly appreciate a ride up until the road wasn’t so horrible. He said he was headed to a John Deere station a ways back, but afterward he was headed toward Louisvile. We loaded the bike into the truck bed and set off. He introduced himself as Trey.

On the road, we talked a bit. Trey was kind, and had been through some rough times. He urged me to go back to college eventually. I’m still not convinced. Maybe in Europe I’ll go to a college. Who knows.

Trey let me off in Midtown, close to the St. Matthew part of Louisville. I kept biking, asked for directions to the University of Louisville, got confused, then got lost in Seneca Park. That was my favorite part of the ride, even though my leg muscles would retaliate the following few days. And the icing on that cake: I came out of the park on a road that led directly to the University. Imagine that.

The rest of the day was spent relaxing and sipping coffee. It was quite satisfying, after going roughly 100 miles over the last few days. Here’s to the next hundred.

To Louisville, Day 2 - Enforced Rest Day

I headed out from Frankfort this morning and immediately realized I was not going to reach Louisville until the next day. My thighs were sore, my body and mind were still exhausted. I hadn’t given myself enough rest from yesterday’s exertions.

I made it out to a gas station/truck stop and began asking about places where I might camp for the night, as well as going through a couple of couch-surfing websites. I got no response, and searches for nearby campsites proved fruitless. So I asked the manager of the place if I could pitch a tent somewhere. She said no, it was against rules, but to try a different one down the road and see what they said.

I found the next place, another truck/gas stop, and asked the first employee I came across about the possibility of camping. “We’re not supposed to let people camp here,” she said. Then, after a moment’s pause: “Tell you what. You didn’t hear this from me, but if you go way out past the trucks, there’s an RV parking lot, and let me tell you, nobody--nobody--parks their RVs there. There are big fields of tall grass on either side, and if you go far enough into the grass and pitch your tent there, you’d be hidden well enough to spend the night.”

I took my bike behind the field of semitrucks, feeling extremely small walking amongst those monsters yet somehow completely at ease. There was the RV parking lot, completely empty as promised, a snake of asphalt winding through tall grass from the truck lot to the road. I walked my bike down the lot, eyeballing about halfway between, and parked my bike.

That’s when I started to panic. Of course, it’s easier to read about veteran cyclists who do this on an almost nightly basis, but doing this for the first time myself was honestly nerve-wracking. The what-ifs flooded my brain: “What if I get caught? What if the police find me? What if one of the truckers saw me and rat me out?” Eventually, though, everything sorted itself out. Nobody would catch me because I would be hidden, not only by the grass, but by darkness itself. If the police caught me, which they wouldn’t, they would give me a place to stay. The truckers have better things to do with their lives than worry about a lone cyclist making no impact on anyone else’s life.

So I left the bike to walk back to the gas station and bought a bottle of water that was actually cold, thanked the employee for the tip, and set off into the grass to try my hand at stealth-camping for the first time. After setting up my tent and crawling inside, I went to sleep easily; the only sight was the enormously tall lights to allow the truckers to see their way through the lot, and the only sound was the hum of engines.

On the Way to Louisville, Day 1

Right now I'm sitting at the Love's truck stop, about 40 miles from Louisville, drinking McDonald's coffee. My legs have decided to rebel for the time being, which means I probably won't get there until tomorrow. Oh well. One lives and learns. And by the way, McDonald's coffee has never been this refreshing, ever. I feel like that's a justifiable plug: "Drink McDonald's coffee after more than 60 miles on a bicycle. It's refreshing."

Yesterday at about 7:30am, I started my bike trip from Winchester KY to Louisville. I actually got to Lexington in record time, but the fact that I had an appointment for which I had to wait over an hour to begin meant a lot of wandering around town. I ate a tin of sardines in the little smoking space off to the side of Meijer, which is where I parked my bike because it had a roof and the weather had spontaneously decided to be wet for five minutes.

I waited for Half Price Books to open so I could shamelessly be a cheapskate, drinking a cup of their free coffee while looking through the clearance section, where I found and bought a copy of Anna Karenina for a dollar. I figure that, if I read one chapter a day, it should last me about thirty years. The coffee was a different story.

And then I just set out, I suppose. It took me a little while to get on track, given that Google Maps literally had me biking in a huge circle, then for some reason adding a bunch of other unnecessary directions, which I weeded out at a Hardee's on Winchester Road.

After that, things were considerably smoother. I rode the 12-mile length of the Legacy Trail, which runs from Northern Lexington up to Georgetown. The fact that it's mostly isolated from motor traffic made it thoroughly enjoyable. On top of that, about halfway through I caught sight of a man unloading his bike from his car. We exchanged a friendly wave, and I rode on. Several minutes later, he passed me up, and we exchanged another wave and a smile. Then, as I approached the end of the trail, he passed me again, riding the other way. We both broke into laughter. It's fascinating, the fleeting experiences you can have with people that you literally will never meet again. We didn't exchange so much as a word.

Iron Works Pike was pleasant. One memorable experience from that: at the end of Iron Works, I noticed a Baptist Church with a pavilion just off to the side, and I pulled in to have a bit of a sit-down and some food, and read a little. Just after I had finished packing up, as I was walking out of the pavilion, a flash thunderstorm started. I immediately ducked back into the pavilion, thankful that I hadn't left one minute earlier, and wrote and read a bit more, waiting the storm out. What can I say? Even Baptist churches can be helpful sometimes. But then, after the storm had ended, I stepped out into the surrounding grass and immediately found myself ankle-deep in water. Thanks, Jesus.

The last ten miles were a bit of a blur, as I just wanted to get to my friend's house. Once I got there, he welcomed me in, fed me quite a bit (he, being a cyclist himself, knew what I was doing), showed me the shower, helped plan the rest of my route, and then I went to bed.

Preparations

I think I've got everything together. I'm determined to not use a backpack this time. I've got a multi-tool and a small, light air pump on top of my aforementioned spare tube. I'm bringing along a pillow and a sheet/blanket this time. The only things I haven't packed and/or made space for are my computer, my phone, their respective chargers, and my earphones. I think that's pretty darn good, considering I have everything I need should I be stranded on the road or my bike need adjustments. I'm feeling reasonably at ease. I'm sure that'll change once I'm on the road halfway from Winchester to Lexington, sweating up a storm and desperately wanting coffee or whatever. But right now, I'm feeling fine. If I need anything, I'll pick it up and make a mental note along the way. If I don't need anything I already have, I'll get rid of it and make a mental note along the way. I'm not worried, for once. So I feel reasonably at ease.

Momentary Backtracking

I'll be biking back home tomorrow morning, in order to sort some things out, clean windows for a bit of cash, and fine-tune my baggage setup (moving some weight to the front, ditching my backpack, that sort of thing). On Saturday I'll set off again, back to Lexington, where on Sunday I'll be doing some things around town. Either Sunday afternoon or Monday, I'll start my trip to Louisville, which I expect to last a couple/few days, and I'll be using Warm Showers for the first time to hopefully have some rest stops along the way. I choose to be optimistic about it. After that I'll likely be hovering around the Louisville area for a little while, since I have gigs on September 6th and 13th. After the 13th, all bets are off for a couple of weeks. Here's to adventure.