F**k this $#!t

I haven't complained much in this blog nor had much to complain about on this trip. That changes with this post.

I remember one time when I got caught in a heavy downpour while biking to school. I got to my first class soaking wet, and by the time it was over I left a huge puddle around my seat. I went home after that, dried out, and flopped on the couch with a cup of tea. You can't really do that out on the road, instead you just leave huge puddles in every store you go into.

My memory is spotty at best of the past few days but I will try to remember the most epic fails and share them with you; in hopes of possibly convincing someone reading this in the future that the Northern Pacific coast is not ideal for biking in March.

I screamed a lot, I know that. I also sang obnoxiously loud, and thought about everything except what I was doing and feeling. My shoes got soaked several times and my feet froze. (Frostbite froze, not just cold froze) My rear tire was so worn that the inner tube started coming out. I broke a spoke and came inches from getting crushed between a guard rail and a semi truck, twice.

Heres a good story for you; I'm fixing my third flat of the day when my tire lever snapped after fighting with it for 10 minutes. I lost it (mentally) and chucked my wheel into the nearby woods. I screamed and cursed, then went into knee deep mud in search for it.

I spent 2 days in Tillamook watching TV at some great warmshowers.org hosts. I didn't want to think anymore. On the road I was going crazy with all the random thoughts popping into my head. Here's a 1 minute excerpt from my head:

What time is it? Why am I so cold? I wonder how they built that handrail. Is my giro guy (food vendor) still back in NY? I need to tell him about my tour when I get back. Yes! The rain stopped. Shit, no I didn't. Dammit I'm so sick of these cars! Whoooosh, whoooosh. Another hill?! Hsiejrhbdowudh. My hands are cold, these gloves obviously don't work. Can I eat my peanut butter sandwich now? NO! 2 more miles, c'mon man! I haven't seen the beach in hours, why is this called the coastal highway again? YES! A gas station just up the road. Let's go inside, spend money, screw my budget, and talk to the people inside for half an hour about my trip. That way I can cool off, get back on my bike and be super cold for an hour before I see another gas station and decide to do this all over again.

So what's next? A bus back to New York.

Just kidding.

I bought some new rain gear and met up with Mike from Vegas. We went to the Portland bike show, then up to Seattle and we are now on our way east to Pullman, WA, meaning I have cheated some 300 miles off the trip. I couldn't give a shit less.

My attitude? Yeah, it's quite different. I'm sick of this shit. It's the end of March and I got my annual spring fever. I though I wouldn't this time around being out on the road and all but the lack of sunlight and constant aggravation makes me feel like shit all the time. Does quitting and going home sound good? Nope. Does continuing sound good? Nope. So what sounds good? Nothing, that's the problem; nothing makes sense. Hence I shall continue with the hopes that all figures itself out soon.

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Alright! That was some of my whining. I feel better now, ready to go out and cross the Rockies, then head into Yellowstone. I have about 39 days to do 2700 miles. If I make it to Yellowstone by months-end I should have plenty of time to finish.

P.S- If you checked out my new flickr photos you might notice that rain is absent in most of them. The reason? I don't take my camera out when its raining, hence you get photos from the 2 minute breaks I was so fortunate to receive between otherwise constant downpours.

The Bad Black Cat

So I've made it up to Eureka after an eventful 4 days.

Saturday went by without a hitch. I started feeling like shit around 4 and wasn't sure of what time the sun set so I camped out at a closed of section on a state park. It rained on and off but nothing too bad. Once I packed camp the next morning it cleared up quite nicely.

On Sunday a black cat crossed my path early in the morning. I'm not superstitious, but started thinking about how it might only effect people in cars. Digging more into it I realized that the saying/ superstition must have been around for quite some time, a time when cars weren't around, and therefore if anything it excludes people in cars. ( I've been doing a lot of rational thinking about irrational things on this trip). Didn't give much thought to it after that.

The day went great until I was getting into Fort Bragg. My shifting was acting up but decided my shifters just needed some oil. I went through town and about 5 miles north my rear derailleur cable snapped. I couldn't shift, was stuck in my lowest gear but was thinking I could make it up to Eureka nevertheless. I threw out that plan when I was walking up the next hill and went into a field to look for a camp spot by the beach. I figured I'd ride back into town in the morning.

Before I realized it my legs were all cut up from thorns and weeds and I was knee deep in Poison Oak. I decided to make some soup for dinner, so I put in a whole bag of mix into my pot and added some water. I didn't realize the mix was meant for half a gallon of soup and ended up with two water bottles full of potato soup. That's when I remembered the black cat.

It rained most of the night (washed away the bad luck I guess) & in the morning I went back to town, fixed my derailleur, did three very tiring hills to go from Hwy 1 to 101, and camped in a Redwood grove overlooking the Eel River.

The winds raged all night and rain kept falling. I could feel the trees swaying and was incredibly at peace with everything.

Going through The Avenue of the Giants was a lot like going to the city for the first time, for you keep straining your neck to see the tops of those that surround you and are filled with awe and inspiration. It felt as those trees had so many stories to tell; I could wonder off into the forest and get lost in there forever. To think that back in the 20's it was all going to be logged is unfathomable.

It doesn't seem like I'm allergic to Poison Oak as my legs look fine, no nasty rash moving in. Tonight will be my last night camping in California, and although I am a bit bummed out as this state has been nothing shy of complete awesomeness I know I will be back here soon.

Away North we go!

Part Two

The Trip Ahead:

Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming (Yellowstone), South Dakota (Badlands), Minnesota, Iowa, Illinois (Chicago), Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York! 4000+ miles, 52 days.

Planned arrival in New York City is around the beginning of May. I'm expecting constant rain through NoCal, the Oregon coast and most of Washington. I'll actually be pleasantly surprised if it doesn't rain for most of the time I'm on the road. Temperature wise it can only get warmer from here on out. (from their current temps, not from the 60's that I'm experiencing out here in Cali)  Yellowstone National Park roads will be open to bicycles only when I go through there in early April. Highway 12 looks like a good option.

That about concludes my planning, it took all but 5 minutes to figure it out; I now feel I'm very well prepared (: I lost my gps in Vegas and maps are a hassle to buy & carry so I will be navigating old school, relying on the sun for direction and locals for road opinions/ options.

I'm doing this part of the trip a little differently, much more focused. I cut my baggage by a third and left only the essentials. No more Pepsi and Coke. Going to start up my Calisthenics routine every morning. Also going to actually stick to my budget this time around, which is set at 40$ a week. No motels, roughing it every night. I have 21 pounds to loose to reach my ideal racing weight. A big goal of this trip will be to build up more mental stamina.

To quote Christopher McCandles (again): "... & now comes the final and greatest adventure. The climatic battle to kill the false being within and victoriously conclude the spiritual pilgrimage." Although this ride won't exactly conclude what I started (spiritually) back in September (whatever it was), it will definitely close a chapter in the journey.

Wish me luck, will update soon!

W

Happiness in March

It's March and I'm happy. Past Marches I was angry at the weather, disappointed with people, tired of work & school and was watching way too many "Corruption! Greed! Revolution!, change the world" occupy-type movies that didn't help in making me feel any better about the world. This year is different. I spent the past 2 weeks in Culver City/ Santa Monica and have come to truly love this place. The weather is incredible, the cycling phenominal. People are friendly and working out here has been a joy. I should have enough funds now to last me all the way back to New York.

 I took a bus up to San Francisco ( I was hoping to hitchhike on the Pacific Coast Highway but time wouldn't really allow for it) where I was re-united with my bicycle and trailer. The weather is perfect but rain is coming Tuesday, so I'm heading out on Saturday to start Part 2 of my Bicycle tour!

 It feels like I'm staring a whole new adventure again. The jitters & uncertainty is back; though it was a great idea to take the time off the bike. When you travel in the simplistic and natural way that I am you rarely look back at where you've been and what you saw. You think about the future, but mostly you're just in the moment. Being off the bike has allowed memories to come flooding back to me.  In a split second you get these vivid memories of biking on a highway in Louisiana, swimming in the Atlantic in Florida, suffering in the cold and windy New Mexico. It takes a second to actually remember where you were at that point in time, but when you do you forget what you're doing and are taken back to the road.

I will post more on my planned route and takeoff tomorrow,  but for now I just want to thanks some of the people who helped me out in the past month. Mike and Rosa in Las Vegas for letting me stay with them while I worked on their condo and making me gain 10 pounds. My teammate, Ryan Johnston, his uncle JD Johnston & Lillie for letting me stay with them out in Culver City, CA and providing me some work on their house. Geno for letting me borrow his tools and Amy for being cool with me sticking around for 2 weeks. Peter & Christina in Fairfax, CA who let me keep my stuff at their place while I was away. Dan, Steven, Bobby, Autumn, Max and George for helping me get to Las Vegas.  It's been a blast guys! Thanks for everything.

A love for building

     I had always loved to build things. When I was younger I'd often get these urges to just go out and create shit. At first it was cardboard box houses, then it progressed to popsicle stick models. I'd create plans, research ideas and build model homes that had working lights, pools that were hooked up to air pumps and roofs that were hinged so you could look inside. Photos Here As time progressed I started working with my father who taught me everything I know about construction, carpentry, electrical & plumbing. Slowly I got the skills and confidence needed to take on bigger projects.

If you're reading this by any chance Dad, I just wanted to Thank You. I know I wasn't the best student but I hope you know that I appreciate what you have taught me more then anything else in the world.

I got to Las Vegas three weeks ago and renovated a friends condo out here. We put in Laminate flooring, slate tile, tiled kitchen backsplash, moldings/ thresholds and 7 new high hats among other things. Doing all this work made me realize how much I truly love working and how I have missed my tools. Everything is pretty much finished and the place looks great, it's a job that I'm quite proud of.

I've always tell people that I have a trade and love working with my hands when they ask me about college, but was never sure about my answer in the past. I think this whole experience has made it clear to me how much I love what I do and that I don't need to keep questioning myself anymore.



Kitchen backsplash, slate floor. Tile/ Laminate threshold. Moldings

Master bath tile/ threshold. Tiled entrance. Sexy tan lines.

I am now off to Los Angeles where I will spend a week cycling and training with a couple of teammates. After that it's back to Fairfax where I will pick up my bike and continue onto part 2 of my Tour around the country. (:

Hitchhiking Escapades.

The short version:

Stopped by the police, shoo-ed off on-ramps, mistaken for a homeless druggie, confused for a "The Price is Right" contestant, hiked on the Pacific Crest Trail and walked for more hours then I was in cars for. All in all I made it to Las Vegas unharmed and well. Will be working here for at least 2 weeks.

Long version:

It all started on a rainy morning North of Frisco. Peter gave me a ride out to Vacaville as he was heading up to Oregon. I made my sign, "I-15 South!", got an umbrella and found a good on-ramp.

It took quite the mental effort to fly that sign. I normally don't ask people for help, and standing there being passed by hundreds of cars feeling as though you're being scrutinized by each and every person was tough. I was in a town that I knew nothing of, in the middle of California just standing on an onramp trying to hitch a ride. The level of pathetic-ness I felt was overwhelming.

Thankfully within 5 minutes a guy in a pick-up stopped and got me to Woodville. I was on a pretty busy on-ramp when a couple came up to me and told me I had no chance getting a ride here, should take the bus into Sacramento and hit the truck stop. I foolishly listened to them.

I got into downtown Sacramento, checked out the city and took a bus out to the truck stop. What I forgot to consider is what Interstate that truck stop served. Not mine! After a couple of failed attempts at hitchhiking I pitched my tent in a city park and dealt with a mean wind set on ripping my tent to shreds all night ):

I left early in the morning to avoid trouble, took the bus back into Sacramento and figured an on-ramp going out of the city should get me a ride. It didn't; I ended up walking the whole day and covered some 20 miles. Before nightfall I went into a McDonalds to weigh out my options and wait for it to get dark (so I could sleep in someones cozy-looking backyard) when a fellow hitchiker came in. He told me he's been stuck in Sacramento for a week (thought I bet his appearance didn't help in getting him a ride). At that point I figured I'll just walk to Vegas.

We talked for a while before a couple next to us came over and started asking questions. "So how long have you been living on the streets?"

"Uhm, I'm not living 'on the streets' I might be living on the road but not the streets". The guy talked to us about how he was involved in all sort of bad shit when he was younger and how it's not a path we should take, instead we should find God. He offered us some food and got the other hitchhiker 6 burgers and a milkshake.

The next morning I had a plan. I took the bus to the other side of town, dryed out my shit at the laundromat (the look on people's faces when I dumped my whole backpack into a dryer was priceless) and with positive energy emitting out of me got on to the on-ramp, flew my sign for a whole 5 minutes before getting a ride from George who was heading down to Orange county to do his taxes. He thought I was homeless and gay but was relieved when I told him I'm neither (half-true on the homeless part)

I slept under a bridge in Anaheim and in the morning walked along the Santa Ana River trail. I had zero luck on 3 on-ramps and started walking north on a side road. Got a ride from Autumn (who stopped to picked me up even though she had her kid with her) and later from Max who got me to a great on-ramp on I-15. Bobby (a retired business woman originally from Virginia) took me to Cajon Pass. I found out I was right on the Pacific Crest Trail from a gas station attendant and decided to camp out by a creek.

In the morning I didn't want to head back to the road just yet, so I went hiking on the PCT. I hiked some 20 miles headed southbound past Lake Arrowhead, mostly all in the nude. I camped by a creek and made a fire for the first time since South Carolina. When I awoke that morning I was once again enchanted by the woods (desert), serene quietness, and my self-sufficiency.

I hiked back to the road but spent another night on the trail with yet another fire. In the morning while hitchhiking on the side of an on-ramp a highway patrol car pulled over on the other side of the road and with his loudspeaker blasted "NO HITCHHIKING". I got up and he waved while pulling away. I moved up a bit to the intersection ( I was still on the un-paved shoulder, technically not considered a "road" and therefore according to the law I was in the clear.) He didn't seem to think so and on his third round (I managed to see him coming by the second time and pretended to be on the phone) pulled over on the other side of the road again and this time blasted " No hitchhiking... ANYWHERE!". I tried flagging him down to come by and talk to me so I could explain to him it is in fact legal but he just waved. Not wanting to be in handcuffs when he came by the fourth time I started walking up a side road, thumb out. After 3 cars a guy stopped and got me to Hesperia, where another stretch of no rides, miles and miles of walking, and police stops resumed.

I couldn't take the bus into Vegas as I only had a couple of dollars and wandered the streets. I saw a guy charging something by an outlet so I asked him "whacha charging?" - "Just my gps".

Thinking we could compare Garmin models and talk about getting .gpx files to work he lifted up his pant leg and showed me his parole- issued tracking device. He used a whole bunch of street terminology to ask me whether I'm into crack, like it in the rear, and how long I've been homeless. He told me the local church gives bus vouchers and that there is a homeless shelter down the road as well as a squatting place under the bridge. Why anyone would sleep there when there is an awesome mountain with an incredible view up the road is beyond me. I hiked up to the top and slept under the stars and above city lights.


In the morning I gave in and called up my friend in Las Vegas to ask him to pick me up. I was some 240 miles from LV but knew I wouldn't get a ride. I waited for 3 hours on the on ramp with my sign out (just to see if anyone would stop) and no one did. We cruised to Vegas top-down.

It took me just about a week to get here. While not ideal I definitively did learn a lot about this fine craft.

A change of pace...

Today marks 120 days on the road, the day I turn 20 years old (no birthday wishes wanted), and the day I start a new adventure:

Hitchhiking to Las Vegas and beyond.

Why you ask? Well, why not? I've got the time and it's getting a bit cold & rainy on the coast. It will be impossible to bike across the Northern part of the country in February/ March. I also have a small job lined up in Vegas that will take about a week to complete and my team is having a sort of training camp in LA at the end of February. I figured instead of rushing ahead North, why not go back and see what I missed in a different type of way?

I'm leaving my bike here in Fairfax, CA with some friends along with more then half of my gear. I bought a 45L backpack and took only the essentials: Tent, sleeping bag & pad, stove & a single pot, some clothes and a few other small items. People backpack around the world with much less so I should be okay. I plan to be back in NorCal in the beginning of March and continue my bicycle tour up north and eventually back east.

"Oh my god what happens when some crazy trucker picks you up and then kills you!?" Won't happen. Real life would not make good movies, and therefore movies do not represent real life in any actual way. Will I meet some crazy people? Of course! Will it be awkward at times? Sure, but it will all be part of this new adventure.

In a way I see the world as my playground now. I feel comfortable out and about. I love the freedom and the ability to do as I please, to sleep where I want. Real life does everything to strip people of that happiness yet I will cling onto it as long as I can. Simply, I love unpredictable travel & I love meeting new people. Aren't we told to do what we love? What can I say, I guess I will be a dreamer forever.

Wish me luck! Best,
Wojciech