PDX 09286.2
Burley, ID 09896.9
610.7 miles
Crawled off the bike and into an expensive but nice Best Western. If anyone wants to give me a massage I’ll be in the Starlite Lounge.
I didn’t feel any fatigue during the riding. Tiredness, sure, but no more than during any other day, brought on by lack of sleep, sunlight, and lack of coffee. But as soon as I had a place to sleep and knew I wasn’t moving the bike til morning, all the aches and pains and fatigue materialized. I could barely walk straight to get from my room to the restaurant, I was suddenly so light-headed.
At times it seemed like regular riding, just longer. At other times, it seemed more like long-haul road trips from my past, taken in a car (I kept thinking that I recognized spots along I-84, then realized that I did not).
I finally relaxed in Idaho. I felt a loosening after more than 300 miles into the trip.
Listening to Metallica (“Fuel”, “The Call of Ktulu”) while climbing a curvy pss—it was just fucking cool.
At other times, I felt, a little bit, the exceptionality of the situation—all of a sudden I smiled widely, laughed, glanced at the landscape, kicked it up another few mph, put my hand on the tank, and sang along to the Foo Fighters.
Once, I seemed to try to verbalize the specialness; I noticed the landscape (Idaho), the music (the Foos), the road, the bike, the wind, the shadows, and I told myself, This is my whole world at this moment, (I can’t possibly care about anything else), nothing else matters at all right now.
I don’t think I believed it—I never do believe me when I have to explain me to myself—but the visceral reactions and intakes before the intellectualizing screamed Fuck Yeah.
I didn’t think about the bugs, or the wrist pain. Tomorrow, I’ll do a full wrap on my hands. My ass—so sore.
I got apprehensive, and felt tired and lazy, whenever I thought about crossing the same roads on my way back from New York. I told myself not to think about it; I told myself it’ll be worth it.
Maybe the first day is premature for judgement, but—so far, it’s worth it.
Sleep well—-5 AM wake-up call.
Burley, ID 09896.9
610.7 miles
Crawled off the bike and into an expensive but nice Best Western. If anyone wants to give me a massage I’ll be in the Starlite Lounge.
I didn’t feel any fatigue during the riding. Tiredness, sure, but no more than during any other day, brought on by lack of sleep, sunlight, and lack of coffee. But as soon as I had a place to sleep and knew I wasn’t moving the bike til morning, all the aches and pains and fatigue materialized. I could barely walk straight to get from my room to the restaurant, I was suddenly so light-headed.
At times it seemed like regular riding, just longer. At other times, it seemed more like long-haul road trips from my past, taken in a car (I kept thinking that I recognized spots along I-84, then realized that I did not).
I finally relaxed in Idaho. I felt a loosening after more than 300 miles into the trip.
Listening to Metallica (“Fuel”, “The Call of Ktulu”) while climbing a curvy pss—it was just fucking cool.
At other times, I felt, a little bit, the exceptionality of the situation—all of a sudden I smiled widely, laughed, glanced at the landscape, kicked it up another few mph, put my hand on the tank, and sang along to the Foo Fighters.
Once, I seemed to try to verbalize the specialness; I noticed the landscape (Idaho), the music (the Foos), the road, the bike, the wind, the shadows, and I told myself, This is my whole world at this moment, (I can’t possibly care about anything else), nothing else matters at all right now.
I don’t think I believed it—I never do believe me when I have to explain me to myself—but the visceral reactions and intakes before the intellectualizing screamed Fuck Yeah.
I didn’t think about the bugs, or the wrist pain. Tomorrow, I’ll do a full wrap on my hands. My ass—so sore.
I got apprehensive, and felt tired and lazy, whenever I thought about crossing the same roads on my way back from New York. I told myself not to think about it; I told myself it’ll be worth it.
Maybe the first day is premature for judgement, but—so far, it’s worth it.
Sleep well—-5 AM wake-up call.
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