Conference noted::bicycle

1318.0. "Posted for a friend who rode the A.L.A. TransAmerican Bike" by RTSUPP::SCHNARE (CHARLIE SCHNARE) Mon Sep 25 1989 18:45

                        A.L.A. TransAmerican Bike Trek
                      Seattle, Wa.  - Atlantic City, N.J.
                         June 5 to July 21, 1989



On Oct 10th at noon, there will be a TREK slide show in HLO2 cafe. Bill Pressley
, a non-DEC trekker and excellent photographer, will be showing his slides in a 
multi-media presenation (3 projectors + music). 



Trip report by Marion Garver;

         This summer my Bianchi Limited bicycle and I rode across the
continental United States. It was a pretty good summer vacation. The tires 
that touched both oceans and all of the 3632 miles of road in between are 
hanging on my basement wall. They are a treasured reminder of the communal 
accomplishment and the overwhelming joy of my cross country experience. 
         The American Lung Association 1989 Trek was kicked off by a 
'meeting' (of course), in Seattle, Washington. There we learned the group 
consisted of 299 riders, representing 38 states ,four foreign countries and
the Virgin Islands. Massachusetts had 26 riders, making it the the third
largest state group. The 1989 Trekkers ranged in age from 17 to 69 years old,
with a mean age of 32. Forty-four percent of the riders were women. There were
probably less than ten USCF riders altogether, so most people came from a 
touring background. We had collectively raised $1.75 million dollars for the
American Lung Association, the oldest charity in America. 
          The Trek started from the Seattle waterfront area, early on the 
sunny morning of June 5th. Three hundred Trekkers attired in the blue helmet
cover and ALA T-shirt uniform of the day, with our bikes numbered fore-and-aft
for easy identification, amassed along the waterway under red, white and
blue balloons. After a few inspirational words and several references to safety,
we were led out of town by two members of the bicycling department of the 
Seattle Police Force. I rode behind an officer pedaling away on his 
mountain bike, with revolver on one hip and radio on the other. He kept 
'tucking-up' on hills to go fast, and at the fifteen mile mark where he 
had to turn off, he called out, "Take me with you!". 
          The excitement factor easily lasted the whole first week. Either
that, or the American northwest scenery was incredible enough to reinduce it
daily. We were riding about eighty miles a day, encountering some hills and
a climb of eight miles to cross the Cascades at four thousand foot Steven's
Pass. People were riding themselves into shape, and in retrospect many
found the beginning to be a real 'training experience' as they spent long 
hours covering the distance. The double-long logging trucks rocketing along
the Idaho roads were also a new experience to some of us. The first week ended
in Glacier National Park. We had covered 613 miles of beautiful country,
crossing three states and one time zone. Glacier offered a good off-bike day 
to raft, see bears and mountain goats, and prepare for the next day's crossing
of the Continental Divide.
           The Going-To-The-Sun Highway is an eleven mile long eight percent 
grade road constructed by the Civil Engineering Corp in the 1930's. On June 7th,
six days prior to our crossing, the last of the 50 foot deep winter snows were
removed by dynamite and Logan Pass was officially opened to summer traffic.
Bikes are allowed on the road until 11AM, after that only cars and buses. I
started out at my 'normal' hit-the-road time of 6AM. The day was our first 
cloudy day, but with the cloud ceiling not low enough to cover the peaks, I
tried to remain optimistic about the chance of getting a view on top. The 
glacial mountains are very impressive, not because of their height (~7000ft),
but because the valley floors are low so the mountain rise is impressive. I 
was honestly so excited by the view and the sound of rushing, melting water
everywhere; that powered by images of Tour-de-France riders climbing over 
the Alps, I barely noticed the climb! I rode in a 39-23, occasionally dropping 
into the 39-28. Achieving the summit was marvelous. We were surrounded by high
snow banks. The summit parking lot was crowded with skiers! It had started to
rain and was about 38 degrees. I put on all the clothes I had with me, and
stuffed the front with newspaper for added warmth. The descending road was
hardly visible, so disappointingly thoughts of caution in the sleet took
precedence over the desire for speed. The descent was incredible, long and





fairly straight, with only one hairpin turn. Even with the wet my maximum speed
was 46mph. The most impressive part was the thrill of traveling almost eleven
miles on a bicycle without turning the cranks! 
         The Rockies ended abruptly the next day. A twenty-five mile per hour
tailwind sent us zooming out over the prairies for the fastest average speeds
I have ever experienced. In four hours and twenty-two minutes, I soloed the 
hundred miles between Shelby and Havre, Montana. The term 'Big Sky' became 
clear to me when I peered out from under my helmet at an entire hemisphere of
blue! In contrast, a day of HEADWINDS gave me a two hour view of the water
tower in Poplar, MT as I approached at a blinding clip of about six miles an 
hour. Montana to St. Cloud, Minnesota could be characterized as sixteen days
of flat riding in the big ring. The Trek was 'the event' in many of the towns
where we stayed and actually outnumbered the residents. People were incredibly
friendly and interested in the event. Evening camp would be full of kids
looking for autographs. We played softball games, sat on tractors, toured grain
elevators, and had local Indian groups cook and dance with us. 
         A 'normal Trekking' day description would go something like this : 
a) be awakened at pre-light by birds and the sound of a neighbor's tent
zipper b) pack (again!) and stuff all gear into 15x15x36 inch space allotted
in the gear truck c) EAT. We were served breakfast and dinner on Trek, usually
by a local Lung Association volunteer group, or perhaps another organization
like a church or Indian group, the boy scouts or local Lions Club. It was a
great way to meet and talk with people. The food was usually plentiful and
usually reasonably good. A part of Trek everyone enjoyed was that riding 
eighty miles a day meant 3 to 4 times the 'normal' calories could and
should be consumed. Usually for breakfast I would have two servings of cereal
with fruit, a muffin or two, juice, and coffee. Breakfast began at 5:30 AM and
I liked to be d) on the road by 6:00 to enjoy the mist and approaching dawn. I
would ride about three hours to e) Checkpoint. Checkpoint was located somewhere
around the mileage half-way point for the day. The A.L.A van and banner would
be set up along the road and we would get encouraging whistles and shouts from
the staff as we stopped for a break. We would refill water bottles and stop for 
'second breakfast'. Then it was time to f)complete the miles, find camp, sign 
off the road and pick up the TripTik for the next day ; followed by g) setting
up camp (again!), and h) using the shower truck. We were accompanied by two 
eighteen wheel trucks which hauled water, facilities, sinks and hand-wash 
laundry apparatus. Then it was time to i)site-see and search out postcards 
before j) getting in line (again)for dinner. Out west, a 'vegetarian' is 
apparently someone who subsists on potatoe salad, cole slaw, and canned 
spaghetti. However, huckleberry pie can go a long way toward making up for
some tedium in the entree. 
    A side effect of camping out in close proximity to 300 of my "closest 
friends" made part of the Trek experience similar to a sleep deprivation
experiment. People who snored were quickly ostracized. Their tents became 
beacons of where not to camp. We were riding the 'high line', Route 2,
across the northern US, which gave us about 15-16 hours of daylight. Also
many of our 'campsites' at local High Schools were surrounded by street lights.
Many times the railroad was close enough to shake the ground. For these and
other reasons, it got to be whenever a group of Trekkers sat down for any 
length of time, we would fall asleep, or 'power lounge' as it was called.
The Miller Brewery slide show was punctuated by snores; some slept through the 
Baraboo, Wisconsin Circus ; we slept at Gettysburg, most movies and any-and-all
ALA meetings. The tour guide at the Frank Lloyd Wright house Fallingwater 
said, "Oh yes, you're the group that falls asleep on the furniture." One day 
six Trekkers were spotted in a booth at Friendlies - all asleep. 
    From Chicago onward, the tenor of the trip became much more directed toward






completion. The coffee improved dramatically and people had heard of bagels.
Magazines other than Feed-and-Fence were available. The urban roads were 
more crowded and the miles of 'Strip Malls' began. We started to stay in
college dormitories more often. We were no longer the focus of attention, 
however, I would not say we weren't 'recognizable'. As people became bored 
with the clothes they'd been wearing for over a month, shopping trips to 
local KMarts started to produce distinctive 'Trekker Outfits', particularly  
when it was discovered to be cheaper that doing laundry.
     In Wisconsin we ride on 32 miles of RailTrail that was well maintained
and hard packed enough to average ~18mph. The trail included three tunnels, each
more than a mile long. The tunnels poured cool, damp air out into the July heat.
We walked the bikes through them with flashlights. In Indianapolis, the Trek 
stayed near the Major Taylor Velodrome. I watched a track practice, then later
we got to go out on the oval with our road bikes. After about five laps, I got
the hang of riding up and down the 30 degree slope. 
     Roads in West Virginia and Pennsylvania were actually steeper than out 
west. We crossed the Alleghanies in a series of four mile climbs, with 
elevations of about 2500 per peak. I was comfortable with the 39-28. Most 
riders had grannies, but there were also people riding 42-26 without much 
problem. The downhills were fun with wide shoulders and enough room to pass
trucks. We raced horse-drawn Amish carriages with signs saying they do not
exceed 25 mph. We had more rain too, in the East. One night in the Ohiopyle,
Pa. state park, over 45 people stayed in the twenty foot square 'warming hut',
having arrived too late to set up tents in the deluge. The day through
Philadelphia poured rain. I mini-crashed (ie. tipped over ) on a steel grated 
bridge. I visited the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall in such a muddied
condition, that other tourists were noticeably keeping their distance. The end
somtimes seemed slowed in its approach. Not tired of the miles, I was tired of
rain and trucks, strip malls and all the clothes I owned. I had changed three
flats and thought that was enough. 
     The ending in Atlantic City is pretty well etched in my mind. We paraded 
into town as a group with police escort. We road down Donald's boardwalk 
surrounded by friends and and family. The sensation of finishing is nearly
indescribable. The riders all went down to the water to re-dip bikes in the
Atlantic. Then an incredible party ensued about 30 feet off shore as everyone
exulted in the waves and in our communal achievemnt. 
     There was a downside about this year's trip to note. A very regretful and
tragic death of a Trekker occurred in Indianna. This is the first fatality 
in the three year A.L.A. cross country history. The cyclist killed was a good
rider. He and another rider, who suffered a broken leg, were struck from the
rear by a hit and run driver who was later arrested. 
      
      It would be impossible for me to recommend this exerience too highly. I
saw an unbelievable amount, and thought about 'America' in ways grade school
history and/or Newsweek never provoke. I got incredibly fit, which always 
gives one such great energy. I made good friends, and enjoyed the exposure to
such a wide variety of people. I left work, family and friends for seven weeks
to gain an experience which will always be with me. I would also like to
re-extend my thanks to everyone who generously donated to this event. If you 
already enjoy biking, it seems to me the more you ride, the better it gets !


Marion Garver