My support team

This trip wouldn't be possible, or wouldn't work as well, if it weren't for the people who have helped out in very practical ways.

True to his New England origins, Jim is one of the most down-to-earth, decent and honest guys on the planet.  I've known him since 1971 when we were both in the Army stationed in Heidelberg. We've been great friends ever since.  He's got a wonderful international street sign and  license plate collection.  Jim will be looking after the house and taking care of the mail in my absence, and is the primary contact of all my emergency contacts.  I contact him almost every other day while I'm on the road, and he keeps me informed how the entire planet is falling apart in my absence and how badly the stock market is tanking. I hope the US government doesn't spend ALL my social security money, or is it too late already?
A retiree at a ridiculously young age, Brad has generously offered to provide transportation to Anacortes.  I hadn't quite figured out how I would transport a disassembled and boxed bicycle, tent, sleeping bag, and four fully-packed panniers by train to Seattle and then by ferry to Anacortes.  Luckily, Brad came to the rescue.  When he's not square dancing in "Green Shoes", he's acquiring master points at the bridge table. 

Acknowledging those who are important to me

These are the people with whom I've cycled and who have made a big difference in my own cycling "career".

There would never have been a bicycle in my life if it hadn't been for Jim.  It must have been around 1980 that Jim decided that a Raleigh 10-speed would be a good Christmas present.  I was shocked.  In fact, I thought he had lost contact with reality.  What? Exercise? Me?! At the time, my biggest hobby was gourmet French cooking, and I was a walking testimonial to rich creamy sauces.  Within a couple of years, though, we both became avid bicycle tourists.  This picture was taken in 1987 on the "Route du Vin" through the Burgundy region in France.  It may not be the best picture of him, but it captures his good nature and sunny disposition.  Jim died of cancer in 1995, and I sorely miss having him in my life.
Sharon loves to "geocache" with her GPS receiver.  She was the one to alert me to the wonders of this technology, knowing that we both share a love of cycling and gadgetry.   For many years, she has been keeping a cycling journal, with the happy result that in 2001 she celebrated her 100,000th mile!  If that weren't impressive enough, she's ridden the formidable "Davis Double" (200 miles in one day) sixteen times in a row.  Broken wheels and devastating tropical storms (no kidding!) may slow her down; nothing stops her!
A couple of years back, when Derek was at the tender age of 69,  he and I teamed up for a grand tour of the Czech Republic.  We started in Vienna, Austria, and cycled north to Prague through the forests and medieval towns of Bohemia, and eventually returned to Vienna via Linz, Austria and the bike path along the Danube.  It would take several websites to recount Derek's exploits on his Bike Friday and six other bicycles.  Derek is an incredible bicycle stud and inspiration to all who know him.

 

Folks I've met (or met up with) along the way

Some of the people I've met along the way live three blocks from me.  Others I've met for the first time in my life.  Here are a few of the connections I've made since I've been on the road.

Lester lives on Joost Street in San Francisco, one block south and three blocks east of my house.  He grew up on a farm in Tioga, North Dakota, and had returned there this summer for his fiftieth high school reunion.  I had only planned on seeing Lester in Williston, ND, for dinner one night, but his sister and brother-in-law figured a cyclist from California would appreciate a home-cooked meal.  They were absolutely right on the money.  Lester drove into Williston to pick me and my bike up, and drove me back to Tioga, where I spent two rest days, not just one.  Lester looks very pensive in this photo, but it's only because he's wondering what happened to his order for Juneberry-rhubarb pie.
In yet another "it's a small world" story, I got to meet the nephew of the high school best friend of my best friend back in San Francisco, Jim (see above).  I met Bob (see below) once when he was visiting Jim in San Francisco, and he has taken an interest in my cross-country trip.  When he realized I would be passing through Minot, North Dakota, he emailed his nephew and asked if they would put me up for a night.  They jumped through hoops to oblige, including borrowing a pickup truck so that they could transport a bike and 65 pounds of gear.  I didn't get to Minot until after 6:00 pm, but Jeff drove in, picked me up, and drove me back to the Air Force base, where Tiffany (and maybe Keelie?) had prepared dinner for me.  Jeff and Tiffany grew up in New Hampshire, just like Bob and Jim.  When I tried to explain the connection through Jim, then Bob, and finally to them, I suddenly had the frightening realization that I had met my friend Jim in Heidelberg in a year that preceded Jeff's birth by several years.  The generation gap didn't impact our connecting, and within the first hour, we were conversing like old friends.
Hospitality knows no boundaries at the home of Pete and Geni in Fargo, North Dakota.  I connected with them through the website www.warmshowers.org, a site that pairs bicycle tourists with willing hosts.  I had emailed a few days beforehand and given them my cell phone number.  On the hottest day of the year in Fargo, Geni called me on the cell phone, just a bit worried about how I was doing.  In her message, she said that they had an air-conditioned room waiting for me if I wanted to make the 90-mile push in to Fargo. In a moment of disbelief for a Big City guy like me, she said that if they weren't home when I happened to roll in, they would leave the back door open and I could just go in and make myself comfortable until they got back.  I've lost count of the number of bicycles they have, but there were five bikes racked in the large room where I am sleeping, and another seven or eight in the garage.  Pete doesn't give up: he even cycles during the North Dakota winters.  He has 3" wide snow tires on a single-speed mountain bike.  They have done more bike tours than I have ever dreamed of, but these have provided some excellent ideas for post-retirement trips.  Or even better, post-early-retirement.
Maybe this is getting old, but here is yet another in the series "It's a Small World".  When I was growing up in the early 50s, Penny's mom and my mom were both first cousins and best friends, first as teenagers and later as adults.   So as second cousins (if that's the right genealogical term), Penny nd I spent quite a few family gatherings together.  A mere 50 years later finds Penny and her husband Bob living in Grand Forks, ND.  They drove down to meet me in Fargo, ND, and we had an absolutely terrific visit at Juano's, a classy Mexican restaurant in downtown Fargo.  Poor Bob had to listen to Penny and I exchange what tidbits of family gossip we knew about, some of which went back to the early 1900s.  It was rather fun to fill in some of the loopholes in our understanding of our family history at the grandparent state, but poor Bob had to sit through it all.  Luckily he's a good sport Since it was often based on the rumors and innuendos we heard growing up about our aunts, uncles, and grandparents.  Thank God some of the stories had the dramatic content of soap opera; otherwise, Bob would surely have collapsed from boredom.   It was great to visit with them both, some 1,600 miles from our original stomping grounds.
I only spend a lunch hour with Greg, but meeting him was one of those lessons in hospitality and friendliness from the folks in this part of the country.  Greg had apparently passed by me in his truck on his way home for lunch.  By the time I got to the his driveway, he waved me down and invited me to stop for water and snacks.  It was a nice gesture, so I accepted.  We sat in the front yard at a picnic table covered with maps, a pitcher of cold water, taco chips (my favorite junk food), cheese, and nearby, three bicycles (mine and two of his).  Greg works for the Forest Service and has lived near Lake Bemidji for four years with his wife and son.  His newest bike is a classic tourer that he has converted to a single-speed.  He let me ride it around the driveway for a few minutes, but I'm afraid I looked like someone who had never been on a bike before.  Single-speed bikes are a different animal.  After eating most of the bag of taco chips myself, we both had to get back to serious work: Greg checking out the health of the Minnesota forest, and I bicycling right past them admiring their scenic qualities.
I was bicycling along south of Big Sandy Lake on my way to Palisade, my destination for the day.  As always, I'm big on greeting people so when I saw a lone pedestrian, I rang my bike bell and waved.  Five minutes later, Joe was driving along side of me in his truck, offering dinner and a place to camp in his yard.  In my overdeveloped goal-oriented mindset, I thought I had better not -- I wanted to make it to Palisade.  But suddenly a light went on!  This was a terrific deal, and I'd have some company for dinner which is exactly what I miss the most at the end of the cycling day.  I quickly regained my senses and accepted.  Good thing, too!  The house was on a lake with a private beach, Joe is an excellent cook and a great conversationalist, and his 81-year old dad (whom he was visiting for the weekend) is a real live wire.  Joe is checking out my bike in this picture, trying to imagine how anyone could pedal around so much bike and so much gear.  When I got back on the road the next morning (after a delicious breakfast), Joe cycled along with me as far as Palisade.
   
his is John, Joe's 81-year old dad.  He has lived in his house on Rat's Lake for 30 years.  One of his endearing traits is his nap in the afternoon that ends promptly at 4:00 pm.  Why 4:00 pm?  Duh, because that's cocktail hour.  John likes martinis himself, but he mixes a mean Manhattan (where he grew up incidentally).  You can do worse than cycle all day in hot weather, get invited to dinner, and before you are even out of your cycling clothes, have a Manhattan places in your grubby little hands.  The house is full of photographs of his nine kids, innumerable grandchildren, and an eclectic collection of memorabilia from his travels over the years.  My visit with John and Joe was an unexpected highlight of the trip.
This is Jay and two Steves, my "tour guides" in the historic section of downtown Minneapolis closest to the river.  I am behind the camera recording everything for prosterity.  The guy in the middle, Steve #1, was my host in St Louis Park who graciously helped me out and let me recuperate at his place.  All three like to cycle and have some very nice bikes, but it was late in the day and very hot, so my guided tour was on foot.  It seems that I have the extraordinary good luck to keep running into the most interesting people who are also good cooks.
Meet the Thor Family (minus daughter Caryn, who was in New York City).  Margaret is the daughter of a good friend of mine, Nick, with whom I have spent many hours playing bridge.  When he saw my planned itinerary, he wrote Margaret telling her to check out my website.  One day an email shows up in  my inbox: "Need a place to stay in the Twin Cities?"    Yes!  Even at the tender age of 12, son Peter is every bit the consummate host that his parents are. Margaret grew up in California and met Eric at a social function at the Presidio of San Francisco.  She's quite a live wire, a great conversationalist, and provided every possible amenity to make my stay enjoyable.  Eric not only chauffeured me around to the post office and the bike shop, but also tried his best to get me to take his tickets to the Guthrie Theater on Saturday night.  These are the kind of kind folks you meet in Minnesota.
Jim has had a long career in law enforcement, and is now policing the relatively quiet streets of Ashkum, IL.  He, too, is an avid cyclist and likes to participate in double centuries (two hundred miles in one day).  Once he even cycled along with Lon Haldeman at the head of the pack, until the world-class racer decided to put on some speed.  Jim is no slouch, but no match for Lon Haldeman either.  He and his wife Cathy have five dogs: the black Lab is Jim's drug dog, and Cathy trains another two dogs to compete in agility training events.  The other two dogs are just along for the ride.  They recently celebrated their 25th anniversary together, and the day I left, they were headed off to go water skiing.  Jim used to have family in the Bay Area, and  they are no strangers to my home turf.  Sometime in the future I foresee a Bay Area bike ride with my new friends from Danforth, IL.
Dave is a man of many talents, all of which Verizon puts to use.  We started chatting about cycling cross country at the Dairy Barn in Grand Rapids, Ohio, and met up again on a small country road where he was working on a telephone line.  When he's not hanging out at home in Woodville, Ohio, he can be found on his boat on Lake Erie.  Dave has two grown sons, and in the prime of middle age, finds himself single.  He asked me to mention that, and from my own experience, I can add "good sense of humor and generosity" to list of sterling traits.
The last place I stayed along the Erie Canal was in Pittsford, New York, at the home of Barbara and Jarret.  They are two more of the generous folks from the www.warmshowers.org website for cyclists.  Barbara is a fantastic cook and fixed a delicious dinner of salmon, grilled vegetables, and a salad of garden-fresh tomatoes.  For dessert we had home-made shortbread with ice cream and fruit.  Jarret is a very accomplished cyclist and has ridden the same Northern Tier route that I am doing.  The big difference is that Jarret rode cross country in spite of a disability that would ground most people: Jarret is legally blind.  Due to a disease so rare that it could be named after him, he began losing his eyesight about 10 years ago.  In 2001, however, he teamed up with another cycling friend and rode cross country on a tandem!  This is not only an ingenious solution to a thorny problem, but also an incredible inspiration to anyone who is tempted to become dispirited in the face of a terrible stroke of bad luck.
There are some friends that you might not see for 16 years, but when you do, it's like you saw them yesterday.  Susan is just like that.  Susan lives near the northern boundary of the Adirondack State Park in New York.  We met and became fast friends when we were both living in Heidelberg in the early 70s.  Luckily we've kept in touch all those years and are able to renew our friendship within five minutes of sitting down.  Susan drove down to meet me for dinner at the Adirondack Hotel in Long Lake, New York.  We had a great visit over drinks and dinner, and are trying to figure out how we can manage another visit without having to wait another decade or two. 
I had such a good time with Tom, Barbara and Alison ("Ali") that I forgot to take a really good photograph before I left.  I snapped this one just before we dug into the feast that Barbara had prepared for us.  Tom is the nephew of the very same New England Jim who is # 1 on this page.  Perhaps because Tom is a hiker-biker-skier himself, he seemed to understand my determination to ride every single mile of my trip.  He graciously drove 30 miles to come pick me up in Lincoln, and after my three night stay at their place, delivered me to the very same spot.  Tom and Barbara run a very successful business in Plymouth, NH, but somehow, in addition to raising a family and cooking terrific meals, Barbara has found the time in the last few years to pursue a Bachelor's degree program in English literature.  Everyone is an achiever in this family, and Ali is captain of the high school track team.  In life, there is no guarantee that you are going to hit it off with the relatives of your friends, but that certainly was the case in Plymouth.
You would think that Jim organized all the New England part of my trip, and I'd have to say it's true that all the best connections I've made with people have been thanks to Jim.  Bob here went to high school with Jim in New Hampshire but has remained in the state and now lives in Manchester.  Although Manchester is at least a 100 miles off my route, Bob has nevertheless agreed to drive the distance to join me for dinner one night so that I'll have both a friendly and familiar face to greet me in New Hampshire.  His is a familiar face because I met him twice before when he was visiting Jim in San Francisco.  Bob will again join me in Bar Harbor to help celebrate the completion of my trip.  I am also very grateful to him for offering to provide transportation to the airport from which I'll fly home, which solves a major logistical problem.
Bob is a former square dancer from New York City whom I met about 15 years ago at a square dance convention in Phoenix.  We visit back and forth every few years, and stay in regular contact through email the rest of the time.  Bob is planning a weekend get away to Bar Harbor to coincide with the end of my trip.  Bob is a New Yorker through and through, and now that he's retired, he's added adult education classes (NYC history for one) to his busy schedule of theater, classical music, and opera at The Met.  It's a tough life, but someone has to do it.