Tragedy and Friends

Plans for the last few days: drive my car from CO Springs to Logan, Utah, to spend the night with my friends, then to my starting point, Astoria, Oregon, to drop off my bicycle and packed panniers, then finally to Pullman, Washington, where I'll be starting grad school in the fall. A bike shop in Astoria cheerfully agreed to store my bike for a week, while I drove on to Pullman, then flew to VA briefly, then back out to start my ride.

Unfortunate, even tragic events of the last few days: Extra day delay in Utah to repair my stuttering engine. Then I got rear-ended by a hasty undergrad on my way to the shop in Salt Lake City. Then I launched my half-digested Nepali all-you-can-eat buffet into a raised garden on a public street in downtown Salt Lake City. The next day I drove in a state of high-strung stress waiting for something else to happen with my car. It did. It began clunking and ratcheting, to the point of tangibly thumping below my feet as I pulled into a Wells Fargo Parking lot in Portland. So another extra day delay, this time in Portland, to repair a destroyed coupler on my drive shaft. I spent the night at a hostel. Then the very worst of all: a midnight break-in to my vehicle parked in the Wells Fargo parking lot. My car was so heavily packed with all my possessions to move into storage up in Pullman that whoever did it decided not to get into the back (more valuable stuff) and stole everything in the front seat (hardly sellable but extremely valuable to me): all of my bicycle touring gear and panniers, my carefully selected box of books, and my duffel of non-touring clothes for the summer. When I discovered my broken front window this morning, arriving back at my car to meet a pre-arranged tow-truck (yep, my drive shaft was that damaged last night), I just about quit. All of the gear that had been given to me or that I'd gathered or built over the last year for this tour was gone, and in its place some crumbly glass.

Good, even excellent events of the last few days: My friend & Mastertech at my old shop gave me helpful initial advice by phone on my car troubles on the way to Utah. My friends, Dusty & Lisa in Logan, Utah, stopped their schedules to spend time with me, even meeting me in Salt Lake City to eat at the Nepali Buffet and wait for my car to be repaired. Dusty also stood by when I puked lunch back up in downtown, and Lisa had a wonderfully bland Pepto waiting for me. And I felt a lot better after doing that. Also, the undergrad's rear-ending of me yielded no damage beyond a few scratches on the fender. Then, later that night I got to ride around beautiful Logan with Dusty, then out towards some marshes for a cool dusk ride. The next day I got to drive along the Lewis & Clark trail down the Columbia River on my way into Portland (although I had no music playing at that point and I was jumping at every little noise my car made.) Also last night, I thought to move my three bikes into the hostel to lock them up for the night. And in the morning, after discovering the break-in, and getting towed to the shop where I'd made an appointment, the guys that were working on my car were super-sympathetic. "Oh, man, that sucks!" "Look, you even put this little sign in your window. And someone still broke in. That's low!" "You can store your bikes in the back of our shop if you want. We'll make sure they're safe." And most of all, my friends and family have jumped to help me. Melanie called a bunch of people to let them know and to figure out what they could do together to help. Andrew & Peter at my old shop asked for a list of what I was missing, so they could post it in the break room and gather donations from fellow employees. Greg is going to mail me a spare set of panniers and some riding clothes and lights. My dad and a family friend, Ron, are getting together some other riding and cold-weather gear. Every friend I've talked to, from my parents to Dan to Dusty to Joey to Melanie to Ken to Jessica to Greg and everyone else has offered to buy me various things and ship them to me, or fly out here to hang out with me, or has just grieved with me on the phone.

Conclusions: I suppose this is a group ride after all, not solo. If I was going at it solo, this would be the end of it. I'd have to throw in the towel. But instead I have this huge group of supportive friends who are making sacrifices to get me out on the road. That shouldn't be surprising, but it floors me. These are grand friends. I haven't figured out the new logistics yet (where I'm going to start, when) but I've decided I'm going to try to make it work.

But man, this is a blow.