We're in Arkansas, But First Some Thoughts About Texas...

We actually left Texas two days ago and headed into the state where former President Bill Clinton was born. In fact, we even passed by his birthplace, Hope. (I kid you not. (Could that have been the miracle we're looking for?))

But first some thoughts about Texas:

1) Gorgeous countryside. An immense greenery. Land further beyond the eye can see.
2) Overwhelming smell of manure, which meant...
3) Lots of cows. Lots and lots of cows.
4) Restaurants (we only went to two, actually), which pretty much only offered beef. Very difficult for a porkatarian.

On our way to Gainesville, Tex.

But we ended up going as far as Sherman, Texas. It's always nice when you slog through and exceed your expectations. It was a scorcher! Very hot and very humid. It made waiting in the car quite difficult, but who's complaining! I don't think I would have covered this much ground cycling, so...

Here's a small clip.

Tarantula!!? (Still in New Mexico)

Driving on Rt. 66 up ahead of Luna on our way to Amarillo, I come across a lot of things, usually dead skunks and various forms of road kill. This time, I ended up slowing down for one of the creepiest creatures I have ever seen!

I will call it a Tarantula, because (if flattened) it was bigger than a tennis ball and it was... furry! I thought Tarantulas existed only in Brazil, but I could totally be wrong.

Anyway, things like this make cross-country trips exciting. I have been driving through a new place, but in a moment, I was transported in my mind to the Amazon jungles.

Perhaps the Tarantula was an omen for what was to occur only 5 miles later? We were happily chugging along on Rt. 66, when all of a sudden a beautifully paved road turned into a dirt road. Luna hopped into the car with me. We were going to cross the dirt road in the car and drop him off on the other side--the thin wheels on his racing bike can't handle the gravelly conditions). Well, the road just kind of kept going and going and going. After about 5 or 6 miles, we turned the car around and headed back to catch I-40.

That was the last we saw of Rt. 66. It was on our way to Amarillo.

Funny thing: If I had been asked to predict where I would see such a such a large creepy crawly, I probably would have guessed the Mojave desert.

Luna Meet Luna!

Isn't life interesting! On my first day in Flagstaff, I happen to meet the person who prepared my pork ribs: Larry Luna! And what a cook!

Check it out:



Oh, and by the way, in case you didn't know, I'm a vegetarian. A vegetarian who eats pork.



It was really good. But I couldn't finish it all. And I confess: "I'm a pork-atarian"

Day 4 - Cyn's Thoughts, Waiting on I-40 to Flagstaff

It feels like we've been doing this cross-country journey for weeks now, but it's only been four days.

Indeed, hitting the road has taken an entirely different tone than I originally thought it would. I had page-turning thoughts of Kerouac and Hesse, but instead, there's less anticipation for the future and more of ... just settling into the present moment. (It sounds obvious as an observation to me now, as I write it, but it just wasn't so obvious to me in anticipation of this trip.)

In one of the videos I posted to this blog, I muse that I'm "cool" for a crazy cross-country cyclist like my sweetheart, because I'm like a traveling rest stop.

In our car, I drive the highway for five or 10 miles, and then I wait.

Our white Ford Escape is fully stocked with such foods as bananas, salt, bread, crackers, spaghetti with Nutella, roasted bell peppers and tomato salsa (the latter two made possible by our Gilroy friends.)

This white "bus", as we lovingly call it, also contains bandaids, butt butter and body lotion for all of those emergency body care needs.

So, I'm needed. And it's surprising how much comfort that thought gives me in this big expansive world that we live in.

Perhaps that was the miracle I was supposed to find. (I suspect that even if I do find the miracle, it will somehow elude me as that defining bell rings. But in this moment now, it's kind of nice for me to find some purpose--any purpose--for the right here, right now.)

Ironically, I'm finding my raison d'etre by sitting, in the car, on the shoulder of the highway, in the heat, along a winding ribbon of asphalt.

In short, not "doing" very much at all, but waiting.

Cyn: I'm a traveling rest stop

We worked out a leap frog technique to this cross-country bicycle trip. Unlike the Tour de France, I can't follow Luna on his bicycle at his 15-mph/20-mph pace the whole way. Truckers hate it and make angry beeping noises, cars whiz by even faster making the cycling conditions even less safe. So, at one point, we silently agreed that I would move ahead by 5 or 10 miles and he would simply pass me by, or he would pull up to refill on water, Advocare's "spark" or lunch.

Obviously, I do a lot of waiting. Especially, when I wait for him at the top of a hill, or after several hills. It slows down his pace. Overall, he's averaging 20 mph though.

So, in the following video clip, I'm talking to myself on camera, because I was getting bored. We had probably cleared about 50 miles, so I had already spent several hours on my own, in the heat, waiting...

During this wait period, I discover that actually, "I'm really cool [, because] I'm a traveling rest stop."



The next video sort of shows some of the dynamic. Truth is, after several quarter hours (and hours) of waiting, I have to be cognizant of the fact that Luna isn't necessarily ready to chat, hang out, reflect, discuss, etc. It was a hot day. A really hot day. He just wanted shade, drink, and cool water on his head.

Seems appropriate that such a hot day was dedicated to his friends from Maui. All in all, the day treated him well.

Intro Day 3 - Labor Day Monday, Three days before Take off.

I just told my lovely one that Mercury's supposed to be in retrograde all month. She seemed to be relieved and annoyed. Basically, we're having technical difficulties with our webcam and microphone and laptop--or something. My computer skills are not very good.

• Even though the audio is not very good, today we talked a little bit about:


• Our plan to continue packing today and going to Costco.


• Mercury in retrograde.


• The fact that I'm a little nervous. My heartbeat is up there.


• We also thanked Max & Juanita for their hospitality in Gilroy yesterday; and we talked about Officer Ted who offered us some sage cycling advice, and Laura for coordinating with us on her http://www.bububooks.com/ project.

More on all that later. I don't think the video picked up very much today.

Doughnuts & Coffee...

This morning, we went out to pick up some doughnuts before starting the day. I love having a cup of coffee before getting started with my day. Coffee warms my stomach and gently moves me from a sleeping state to a waking state.

Both of us are crazy busy. I have a list of friends I need to contact to tell about this trip. A lot of my peeps still don't know.

Luna has plans to train again today. Yesterday, he spent almost three hours on a stationary bike at the gym. I'm surprised that he did pretty darn well. I mean, he wasn't winded in the least bit. He reminded me afterward that the gym conditions aren't nearly comparable to real-life conditions. Cyclists are either confronted with riding into the wind or with the wind, when they are riding uphill their bike tilts with them and they are carrying their weight while balancing on a two-centimeter wheel--your whole body is involved in the process.

Nevertheless, he seemed to appreciate the workout, getting his calves and thighs used to the motion, so different from walking (my preferred mode of athletic transportation.)

Strangely enough, I'm really nervous and excited for this trip myself. Obviously, being in the car, it's not so much a matter of the physical test, but rather, because I think this will test my mental ... moxie.

I'll have a lot of time to myself on this journey.

A friend asked me, "Are you sure you're doing this for yourself? Are you sure you want to do this?"

And my response was simply, "What else would I do if I didn't?" Isn't life just a succession of events that you either take part in, or you witness? I guess I'm glad to be able to take part in this event in a way that I can take part in it. I really don't think I have the physical wherewithal to endure 2,500 miles of cross-country cycling.

I do have a lot of awareness about the personal challenges that supporting a friend who does have that physical ability will present.

Already I have posed to myself countless questions about what it means to be a woman, what it means for me to be the "passenger" on this trip "driven" by my (male) partner, and I can say that I do experience a little bit of conflict over it--if only because I was brought up on somewhat contradictory values that I have incorporated and embodied.

On the one hand, I feel so great to be useful and important to play this role of support crew to an amazing person who is about to take on an amazing challenge. On the other hand, I am aware that I am (and have been for a while) digressing from the path charted for me. That path was safe and perfect: I'd get married, live in a house with a white picket fence, I'd be raising beautiful children and taking them to soccer practice, while seamlessly advancing in my career. Over the past five years or so, I have gotten divorced, eschewed the white picket fence for less permanent abodes across a 6,000-mile span from Washington D.C. to Maui and back to the mainland, begun a PR business of my own, and put a hold on the child-rearing lifestyle.

Living my life off the itinerary gives my Moon in Virgo a bit of a head-ache. While the travel feeds my soul, I do find comfort in settling too.

Yeah, I'll have a lot of time to think about this stuff when we hit the road. Today, I have letters to write. Phone calls to make. Stuff to pack. But, first, shower!!