Wright Brothers: "The management of our aeroplane, like that of a bicycle, is based upon the sense of equilibrium of the operator." Controlling the aircraft "very soon becomes automatic with the aviator, as does the balancing of a bicycle-rider."

Jody Rosen: "Cyclists get more back from their bikes than they put in. [ ... ] On a bike a person moves four times faster than on foot while expending five times less energy."

David Bryan Jones 1958 - 2023 David Jones died peacefully at home on October 1 2023. Forever Dave-the-Younger to his Southern Tier friends, his indelible smile has made a similarly permanent home in our hearts. His gentle spirit and willingness to pitch in, tag along, chill out with anyone and everyone made him a perfect travel companion. To paraphrase the poem on his Memorial Card: We miss you dearly so keep your chin up until that fine day we're together again.

This blog is not merely a diary. It is a story, with a beginning a middle and an end. It is the story of a small group of individuals (mostly) unknown to each other, and how over the course of a 3000 mile journey from one coast to the other gradually became a band of brothers and sisters who are still in regular contact with each other as I write this six months later. At the same time, as all journeys are, it is also an intensely personal journey, because though we start and finish in the same place physically, and in many ways emotionally too, our individual paths, our unique perspectives and experiences along the way are all unique. This is my story. Even as a brother or sister in this wonderful band, "your mileage will vary."

My editors have advised me to consider amending or omitting altogether some passages that they believe will be hurtful to others. I did think long and hard about that, and I accept that that is a very real risk. But in the end I decided I would not be true to myself, to my story, if I left it out. This was part of my struggle, the demons I personally was working through on this journey. It's not like it was a secret either: if not everyone, at least most people were only too aware of what was going on.

So let me just say this: to those who take offense, I am truly sorry to have offended you. I did not in any way intend to hurt you. I am extremely flattered that you read far enough to be able to take such offense, and I hope that you will push through and come to realize how much I grew to appreciate and respect the vital part you played in this incredible journey. Thank you.

So who are these people?

Well I'm definitely in with the big dogs. Multiple people in the team have: hiked the Appalachian Trail; hiked the Pacific Trail; taken part in Iron Man races; half triathlons. Marathons are a dime a dozen and one big dog mentioned "I do a 6-day 600 mile race in Africa every year". My adventures pale in comparison. I am the only city slicker who had to train for the ride. In additional to all the above highlights, of course the big dogs put more miles on their bikes in a typical week than I do in a typical summer. There are also two loonies. Loony #1 on a recumbent bicycle, which now that I think about it summed him up perfectly in two words, as when he pulled into a water stop dressed all in black with his long hair blowing in the breeze, wearing his Back To the Future Doc Brown sun glasses / visor and talking on the phone. He claims that his huge saddle bag is full of "jazz cabbage" and other similar refreshments. Loony #2 was on an e-bike and looked like his mother dressed him up to cross the Sahara: completely covered from head to toe, his hat's neck flap covering all but the front of his face, which as the only exposed skin on his whole body was always shiny with sun cream. Do not be fooled by these judgemental descriptions. My hat is off to both these gentlemen, who each had ten times more biking experience than I, and apart from a bunch of inclines being too intense for the recumbent, both were quite capable of completing each day's assignments, and in their own ways both added hugely to the overall character and spirit of the team. So that's the crew: seven big dogs, two loonies and a city slicker.

My friend Lindsay sent me this wonderful gif shortly before I left for San Diego

Rat Holes Part of the fun for me is delving into anything that takes my fancy no matter how fleeting our contact might be. By definition absolutely nothing to do with the ride, or even cycling in general. They are called out so that if the subject doesn't strike a cord, then you can easily just skip right passed it.

The Players

(See also: Acknowledgements)

Dennis	Obergruppenführer	Kept the whole rabble warm, fed, bedded, and more incredibly, safe, for 2885 miles. Sometimes the stress showed, and every one of us at one time or other asked the others if they personally had done something to trigger the mood. But this was always balanced by every single issue being quietly and often generously resolved, like lunch switching to something bought in a cafe instead of the usual picnic. And there were touching acts of thoughtfulness like green necklaces for St. Patrick's Day, and Easter Eggs hidden in our luggage at Easter.
Bobby	Captain America	Served 27 years in the military—including 2 terms in Iraq—before making more time for his cycling habit by joining the Cycle of Life crew and the REI Bike Department. To which I would only add that his dedication to "serve and protect" as the LAPD so famously demands, was out of this world.
Leo	Top Gun	Barked the big dogs into a well-disciplined pace line. Leo was only with us physically for the first week, but left huge shoes to fill, and maintained a steady stream of color commentary in the team WhatsApp for the rest of the trip, and beyond.
Craig	Top Gun	With Leo gone, and discipline a little more relaxed, Craig was free to peel off the front and leave everyone else in the dust. But he was only scheduled to be with us for three weeks, after which Dave the Younger and Doug became the undisputed leaders of the pack.
Tim	Probably a big dog	Tim was the other e-bike rider. By all accounts he was quite capable of hanging with the big dogs, he'd just decided to take it easy. But this was all unproven except that he was a long way ahead of me when he tragically crashed on Day 2, breaking his collar bone and forcing him to retire.
Dave-the-Younger	Big dog / top gun	No fuss no muss Dave always had a kind word, a helping hand, and off the bikes happily hung out with whomever was doing what. On the bikes he effortless cruised by the B-Team, looking oh-so-casual leaning on his aero bars like they were a coffee table, chased by anyone who could keep up that day.
Doug	Big dog / top gun	De facto team captain, and more importantly from my perspective, keeper of the beer cooler and its kitty. His steady demeanor, and ability to treat everyone as equals, no matter how he was feeling about them, was a master class in a skill in which I'm consistently graded F.
Kevin	Big dog	Descending, nobody was crazy enough to come even close; on the flat he was in the pace line, or out front; but curiously even I could beat him uphill. Since there was a lot of that, the B Team spent more time with this lovely quiet guy than all the other big dogs put together. Provided we didn't stop for too many pictures.
Betsy	Big dog / mountain goat	Betsy had only two positions: out front leading the charge up a hill (her favorite); or in her own personal pace line tucked in behind whoever happened to be riding at the pace she wanted that day. Sometimes the pace she wanted was B Team, and those days were lovely.
Bill	Loony #1 / Crazy Bill / Billy Bob	Bill, Bill, Bill. Man, you drove me crazy. But I do believe that once we had reached a balance where you could be relied upon to leave at your appointed time (perhaps as the number of historical markers steadily dropped as we moved east? 😊) we were able to rub along together? Regardless, it is hard to imagine the team being complete without you, and you served an incredibly value service to me personally by taking the pressure off being last, which I hated.
Steven	Loony #2 / Saint Steven	By far the sweetest guy on the ride, his e-bike meant he could be wherever he chose, which was generally tagging along with the big dogs. But the e-bike allowed him to stop for a photo, or hang with the B Team or just take a more leisurely lunch, and then zoom off and catch whomever he was chasing. So tagged as a "loony" not because he was not a big dog—which he most assuredly was—but because he did not behave like them, and he sure as heck did not dress like them.
Dave-the-Elder	Dave the Elder	The heart and soul of the B Team. And the patience of Jobe. The number of flats and more serious mechanical issues Dave waved off would have driven lesser mortals such as myself to drink. The perfect travel companion: flexible; easy-going; quietly fearless and tireless. It was remarkable how quickly we seemed to establish a wordless routine of who was leading and why, when to stop and when to go. I'd ride with him again any time anywhere. No mean feat given that the vast majority of the time I ride alone because I don't like the pressure of riding with other people.
Shelley	Shelley	Joined us at the halfway point, for reasons I get into elsewhere, and was immediately adopted by the B Team. Shelley was right up our alley. Liked to stop to take pictures, enjoyed riding hard between pictures just as much as Dave and I did, and encouraged us to eat more ice cream than I've eaten in a decade. And that's after I compromised by only eating Dairy Queen small dipped cones.
RT	King Richard	Obviously so named for my accent / origins rather than anything actually noble about my demeanor. On the contrary, I was the resident curmudgeon, the most outspoken provider of feedback on what I considered unsportsmanlike behavior, or lacking team spirit, or whatever my subject of the day happened to be. I was the founder of the B Team primarily because I was totally unable to keep up with the big dogs no matter how hard I tried. But I soon realized that I also preferred having the time and space to look around, stop, take pictures.

So what was I thinking?

I'm writing this down three weeks before the trip so I can remember my mental state before I started. I'm in full-blown panic mode. For months I've flip-flopped from panic attack to what-could-possibly-go-wrong? A wart on the ball of my foot that I'd been nursing along for some months was now so bad it was causing me to limp. By Thanksgiving the pain in my right rotator cuff was verging on needing painkillers so I could sleep at night and was affecting my willingness to lean on that arm while riding. In the new year I scheduled a trip to the local shoulder expert Dr. Re. Meanwhile after Christmas I felt my power waning, not building. I lost 30lbs and Claudia declared a truce and told me to start eating waaay more protein. Not sure if that helped of course, but it always feels good when Claudia is worried about how little I weigh.

Dr. Re's x-rays showed him immediately that I was not making that stuff up. It was "only" a calcium deposit (who knew old farts could have too much calcium?) and he advised an immediate steroid injection. It was a miracle. I've have absolutely no trouble with the shoulder since.

Meanwhile I have a pain deep in my left thigh that threatens to turn into a pulled muscle when I work it hard. My torso, and in particular my back, is driving me crazy with itching, and once she returned from Vienna in mid-February Claudia confirmed that I was not dreaming about the little red spots—there were more on my back than my front which explained the itching. The trusty sources on the interweb suggest petechiae: "Straining" (eg vomiting or child birth!) is a common harmless cause, and drinking plenty of fluids to avoid dehydration is a home remedy. One could say I've been straining, and I've definitely been having trouble with hydration, so we'll go with that, because the other causes are too serious to think about.

Last but not least my wrists are definitely very weak. I can't squeeze things like bottle tops or push hard with a knife, or even work the thumb-shifters on my gravel bike. Most disturbing of all, the tip of my second finger is permanently numb. Leah, the daughter of some great friends also complained of that on her cross-country trip, and it went away (eventually), so why worry? Then finally this weekend I got a saddle sore for the first time in ten months. WTAF?

In short I'm a total wreck. But other that that, I'm fit(ish), healthy and raring to go. I also remind myself that all my special, wonderful expeditions scared me, and really what's the point if they do not? If you are pushing hard enough it should be scary. Right? So all is well. We will see.