Washington, DC: First Impressions

Got into Washington, DC, last night. Here's the straight dope, delivered with prejudice and without authority.

Number one first impression: who in god's name let the ghost of Julius Caesar design all the buildings in this town? I mean, seriously, this is the most neoclassical thing I've ever tasted, and I once ate a big heaping bowl of neoclassicism. Nearly every building is constructed from giant, white pieces of stone. Even the new buildings are reminiscent of ancient Greece or Rome, without actually putting winged gods on the roofs. And don't get me started on the giant, raging phallus that is the Washington Monument.

Let's move on.

On Death

Someone recently asked me if I had seen a lot of wildlife while I was riding to Nashville. The answer is complicated.

Many of you have already read about the exploding deer incident in Washington. Perhaps some of you have had your own experiences with roadkill. I assure you, until you have ridden a bike for 3,000 miles along American highways, or worked in a hot dog factory, you will not have seen as much dead wildlife (wilddeath) as I have in two short months. The following is a hastily compiled list of creatures I have seen just on this trip.

Primary Objective Complete...Now What?

Nothing went wrong yesterday. No flat tires. No close calls with semi trucks. The wind wasn't even that bad. But it became absolutely crystal clear that September 1 was my last day of long distance bicycling for 2010.

Nashville had always been my initial goal. I considered other options after Nashville: Atlanta, North Carolina, Toronto (idiot), California (oh god). But the plan was always to get to Nashville and reassess. So that's what I did. And that reassessment revealed that nearly every minute of riding since Kansas City has been pure agony. Not physical agony, though. I'm stronger, fitter, and let's just admit it, sexier than I've ever been. Every day I was growing more resilient, while psychologically I was deteriorating.

Unity on Two Wheels

A funny thing happens when you get on a bike and ride for great distances: you suddenly become a member of a club you didn't know existed. The Two Wheel Club. I am now a member.

It started subtly at first. Nods and waves from touring cyclists heading in the opposite direction. Calls of "hey biker!" as I entered a Washington state park, leading to a pleasant conversation with two mildly attractive yet unavailable female cyclists. Once I hit Portland, a very bike-friendly city, the esteem I received from my two-wheeled colleagues swelled my heart with pride. A guy on a very nice, very hip fixie took one look at the load on my bike and raised his fist in a sort of Black Panther salute. As I was leaving Portland, two guys on fancy road bikes out for the day helped me plan my route to the coast. Everyone wants to know where I started, where I've been, and where I'm going.

Utah: As Bad As I Wanna Be

Okay, so, many of you know that I rode through Idaho for 60 miles and decided to rent a car and skip ahead to Salt Lake City. Idaho is pretty much the only state with no cross-state secondary highways, forcing me to ride on the I-84 for great distances, which was dangerous and unpleasant. And I'm no longer in the business of doing things I don't like. The drive today confirmed that I made the right decision. Scary cross-wind, trucks with three trailers, gravel covered shoulders, dust storm warnings, etc. Idaho is bad news. Not to mention boring as cuss.

An Open Letter to the Oregon Department of Transportation

I realize that we are living in "these economic times" but seriously, ODOT, you need to consider some badly needed upgrades to your transportation infrastructure. Having now ridden 900 miles, I feel as though I hold some authority when it comes to road quality; please take the following as expert testimony.

One state down...

Well, this is the inaugural post on my retooled blog, featuring highlights (and lowlights) from my adventure on two wheels.