Glaucoma Research Foundation

Hope, Maine

July 11, 2008

“This is the end. My only friend, the end.”
- The Doors

Back home again.

Thanks to everyone for what they did to help:

• The Glaucoma Research Foundation for covering the ride,

• Dr. Cady for protecting my eyes so I could enjoy the beauty of what I saw,

• My new friends at University of Washington for letting this non-scientist ask question after question,

• And all the kind and generous people along the way.

And to the dear friends who have welcomed me home with such enthusiasm that now I’m the “bike” man for the cycle leg of a triathlon on Saturday!

There are so many amazing things that happened on this journey — I recall things in drifts and moments of brilliance.

“Wisdom is knowing the right thing to do. Integrity is doing it.” I found this quote on a poster in Machias.

As pleased as I am with what I’ve done, the end is hard. I won’t be chatting with my press correspondent each week. Or chatting with Phil Horner or Jodie Miner at University of Washington.

My part is done — for now!!

West Quoddy, Maine

July 8, 2008

“On the road again. I just can’t wait get on the road again.” - Willie Nelson

Half a mile from the state line, it was raining and I had a flat. I didn’t fuss with chasing down the hole in the tube, just changed it for a new one. Now that was the perfect “welcome home.”

I arrived in Hope, Maine on the 4th of July at 3:30 PM, so I could have dinner with the family. You know the usual cookout fare: chicken, hotdogs, sausage, all the salads and strawberry shortcake. This is the time of year when America’s strawberries are ripe and sold wherever they grow and in all the places I stopped in Ontario, Canada.

However, I had not completed my journey for there is no “watah” in Hope, ME and my front tire had not yet touched the Atlantic. So back on the road on July 5th. My destination was Eastport, ME the most northeast point in the contiguous United States. I arrived in Eastport and at the Atlantic Ocean at 11:20 PM on July 7th. I had ridden 4,554 miles.

Then, there’s the return trip. I could call the family and have them pick me up — but where’s the fun in that? So my return took me to West Quoddy, 3 miles across the bay, 42 miles around the shoreline. Stopping at 5:00 PM my mileage read 4596. And I’ll add another 120 miles before I’m home.

As I retire for the evening, I wonder am I in heaven? I didn’t realize how much I had missed the sea fog. As I reflect on my trip, I compare the Cascades to our Eastern Mountains. The Cascades are great for endurance with their long climbs at 6-7% grades. On the East Coast, the mountains have short, steep climbs that require nothing but strength.

Most challenging of these was Mt. Washington, NH. The mountain has some of the most severe weather and holds a world record for wind speed at 231 miles per hour! Eating is forbidden on the bike trail, so I sat down across the way from the entrance to eat a muffin. I started talking with a photographer who offered me a ride up the mountain, which I gladly accepted.

I’ve shared my story with quite a few folks, and they’ve all been generous with their help and support. In some ways, the end of this journey will be hard.

Cornwall, Vermont

July 1, 2008

“Buckets of rain, Buckets of tears, Got all them buckets comin’ out of my ears.” - Bob Dylan

Thunderstorms chased me through Canada and into New York. Generosity continued in Ontario where a little pastry chef, owner of her bakery contributed to the money I’ve been raising. I hoped to spend time at Niagara Falls but the storm was so miserable, I pushed on. About six miles out, I met a father and son team. As we swapped our stories, Walt (the dad) told me that they had biked around three of the Great Lakes, and their ambition was to bike around all the Great Lakes before the son’s graduation from high school.

And the New York firefighters stepped in. First in Mexico (yes there’s a Mexico in New York) and again in Williamstown, the open door of the fire station gave me shelter and a break. Each time, a generous donation came away with me. On the other the hand, Yale Public Library charges $2.00 for Internet access; can you believe it?

In Oswego, the wind stopped harassing me because the rain was coming down so hard the wind couldn’t get through! I passed 4,000 miles just 15 miles west of North Hudson. On the ferry from Ticonderoga to Vermont, I received yet another donation for glaucoma research. Then on to face some of the steepest hills I’ve ever been on in the Adirondacks. The grade is about 12%—rough. I remember that the Cascades were much worse, and I thought at the time “Are these roads even open during the winter?”

I saw a black bear this morning. Of course, by the time I took out my camera, the bear was gone. Did you know that the Amish use molasses in their cooking? Can’t really taste it though.

Another act of kindness: remember the father and son team? Walt rode 15 miles with me after we had supper to make sure I found my way okay. That’s a thirty mile round trip out of his route. Amazing.

Marine City, Michigan

June 26, 2008

“Michigan seems like a dream to me now. It took me four days to hitchhike from Saginaw.”
- Simon and Garfunkel

With my mileage reading 3,384, I’ll be crossing into Ontario, Canada in just half an hour. I passed 3,000 three miles west of Gould City and that’s two-thirds of the journey! As I passed through Wisconsin I was struck by the number of deer. There were umpteen deer — more deer than people, I think.

I was looking for Madonna in Bay City when another law enforcement officer gave me a donation for glaucoma research. So far I’ve collected donations in every state. I rode through a stretch of road very similar to Alligator Alley in Florida, except this one could be called “Black Fly Alley.” There must’ve been 28 million of these bugs, and they are not good eatin’. When I reached Lake Michigan, I took a dip — mmm, refreshing!

I finally saw the sun for three days right around the full moon (June 21), then boom! into the heaviest black thunder clouds. Well, maybe the border will hold back the weather.

In addition to the kindness of all the people I’ve met, today I am so thankful for Werther’s Butterscotch. These little treats keep my spirits up, moisten my mouth and are truly tasty.

Crystal Lake, Minnesota

June 20, 2008

“Slow ride. Take it easy.” - Foghat

Left Glyndon, MN at 7 AM. By 7:05, I wondered why? Even more so when at 4:30 PM I had only traveled 36 miles (remember I hope to travel 50 miles plus a day). Part of the problem was the wind had blown two semis and a car right over, creating a road nightmare. The local reports were that the wind was blowing 50 miles per hour, and of course it’s raining all the time.

I’ve stopped holding onto my bike to keep it upright, and now I’m chasing it! In Hawley, I stopped and treated myself to a fresh-from-the-oven king-size cinnamon roll and hot chocolate. A kind soul let me know that my original route to Hitterdal was under construction, and given the weather challenges I was already facing I decided on a different route. A very nice lady gave me permission to stop, but I told her “it’s too early in the day.”

So I set out for White Earth. It was a good idea… but the rain was coming down so hard that the telephone poles 200 feet away were obliterated from view. I stopped at a farm; couldn’t raise anyone by knocking or calling out. I pulled my bike into a little outbuilding and waited for the worst to pass. My “Ritz-Carlton” suite had a faded poster of Kennebunkport, Maine from about 1974. I later realized that the farm was probably abandoned — I guess I was never in danger of being arrested for breaking and entering.

While having coffee in White Earth, I met the sheriff who sent me on my way down the Great River Road with $10 for my cause. You know my big complaint about Minnesota is the lack of road signs — the type that let you know how many miles to the next town or what the next town is. I was headed for Itasca State Park, home of the headwaters of the Mississippi. I’m curious, how does that mighty river flow to the Gulf of Mexico and Canada?

For those counting: I’m at 2870.8 miles into my journey.

An act of kindness: I’d stopped to repair a tire. Wind was blowing and of course there was rain, making the situation difficult to examine the tube for a tiny hole. I persevered and removed rocks and glass that would have blown the tire later. A gentleman who lived nearby offered me the use of his workshop — one of the nicest I’d ever seen — and proceeded to show me his private gardening shed. He invited me into his home that he had built himself. His lovely wife treated me to a slice of yummy homemade strawberry-rhubarb pie and packed a slice for the road. I tell you, experiences like this are what my trip has been all about.

Cooperstown, North Dakota

June 10, 2008

“Against the wind, I’m still runnin’ against the wind. Well I’m older now and still runnin’ against the wind.”
- Bob Seger

My mileage entered 2,000 in Minnewaukan, North Dakota, part of the Devil’s Lake Area. The town’s welcome sign reads “A SMALL TOWN WITH A BIG LAKE.” And Minnewaukan means Devil’s Lake in Sioux.

I faced four days of rain on the Montana Plains, and winds up to 35 miles an hour. You should know that these are some of the steepest flats I’ve ever experienced. I know this because I traveled 12 miles in 1.5 hours then 14 miles in 1.5 hours, and never got out of the lower gears.

Heading into the wind I managed to cycle four miles an hour on the flat level ground! Talking to four cyclists from Minong, Wisconsin, I was told 26 miles in three hours was fine progress in these conditions.

No matter which way the wind blows there’s rain. The wind blows in North Dakota with such ferocity I wonder why people buy bikes here. In some of these winds I expend more energy keeping upright than pedaling.

In Nashua, Montana, just off the Lewis and Clark Trail, I had breakfast at Bergie’s: a great 18” pancake on an 18” plate with two eggs and bacon for just over $6.00. And of course after such a feast what could be better than homemade Huckleberry ice cream?

Hooray for rest stops with bathrooms and showers and overnight camping sponsored by The Lions’ Club in Cooperstown. The ticks are like mosquitoes! Yesterday, a fellow I met at the campsite was kind enough to spot one on my neck that I had missed. When I told him what I was doing, I received another donation.

Fargo, North Dakota

The world is a small place. I’m 60 miles from my start point of Cooperstown, when my Good Samaritan from the Lions’ Club camp pulls up to give me a bit of a downdraft. Who knew he’d donate yesterday and travel with me today. I appreciate it all.

Malta, Montana

June 4, 2008

“I’m moving to Montana soon. Gonna be a dental floss tycoon.” - Frank Zappa

It keeps raining. Outside Havre (pronounced by locals as Haver), I was told the spring season in the North has been so wet crop planting has been delayed. When I stopped in Glacier Park, the winds from an oncoming storm were so strong that I had to stand inside my tent as I set it up just so it wouldn’t blow away.

After the storm, I was taking pictures on MT 49 outside East Glacier when an elderly couple from Florida spotted me in my U of W jersey. They thought I might be from Webster in Florida where the gentleman had graduated. After speaking with them and sharing stories about our adventures, they donated a little something to the Glaucoma Research Foundation.

There are about six people ahead of me going East on this route, I know this because I met a rider heading west from Wisconsin, and he let me know who he’d met. All of us are riding to raise awareness for various causes. The more I talk about my glaucoma, the more I find others with eye disease issues.

There are prairie dogs everywhere… I must have seen a thousand, and you know after you see 100 grain silos, you know you’re going to see another 100. People ask me if I’m bored with the sights I’m seeing. How can I be bored when I’m racing storm systems and having storm clouds chase me?

You’d be surprised how many nice people you meet, and just how many think they should offer you a ride!! Of course, I turn them down, ‘cuz I want to ride my bike. And I want to thank those folks who greet me when I enter a town, pour me a cup of fresh coffee or offer me a ride. These kindnesses are making this trip such a joy.

Clark Fork, Idaho (pop. 440)

May 28, 2008

“If I were sailing I’d be around the world by now.”

Well, no one was lying when they said the state of Washington is wet. It rained from May 19th to May 25th. But as I made my way through the Cascades in the rain, I was reminded of Julius Ceasar, “Veni, vidi, vici.” I was satisfied to know I’d completed what others had before me.

And just so you know that it isn’t all about the ride and that I’m thinking like my supporters along the way, at the way station in Republic, WA, a couple of like-minded rugged cyclists handed me donations for GRF after I told them what I was doing and why.

From Tiger through Cusick to Newport, WA, I faced a 35 to 45 mph headwind blowing to the West, opposite the direction in which I’d like to head. A lady in Tiger said to me, “I wouldn’t want to be on my bike out in this.” Lyrics from The Doors kept me company — you know, “Shadows of the trees, Witnessing the wild breeze.” On the road, I could see trees bending against their natural pattern.

Hey, I found Hope, ID! The population of 94 is only exceeding by the population of East Hope, ID at 229. When I let folks know I was from Hope, ME, they just weren’t that impressed, so I moved on down the Pend Orielle Scenic Byway to Clark Fork. Right now my odometer is at 943, and I’ll turn 1,000 miles tomorrow as I enter Montana.

Let me thank you all again for your support and good wishes. This is proving to be quite an adventure.

Elma, Washington — The First 5 Days

May 20, 2008

“All I have to say is if we haven’t raised one million dollars by now, I’m done. Just kidding.”

May 14, 2008 - I met with Dr. Philip Chen, Associate Professor and Acting Chair of the Ophthalmology Department at University of Washington, and learned about the new directions for glaucoma research. Dr. Chen knows my ophthalmologist in Maine, Dr. Samuel Cady, and speaks with Dr. Cady occasionally.

In the afternoon I met with Dr. Phil Horner and several of his associates in the Horner lab. Phil shared the many new directions in stem cell research as concerns glaucoma. He also presented to me a U of W jersey that was signed by him and his associates.

I can’t thank Dr. Chen and Dr. Horner enough for tackling this disease. They could be working on cancer or AIDS, but instead they are devoting their talents and intellect to finding a cure for glaucoma.

May 15, 2008 - My first day of cycling. Dr. Horner saw me off as I left Seattle on the Fauntleroy ferry by dipping our back tires into the Pacific ocean.

I liked it so much I thought I’d do it again on the 16th. As any traveler knows, you need a camera, and mine had mysteriously disappeared. So tracing my departure backward to the ferry, I discovered what had happened. Spent another night in Seattle. Bought a new camera.

May 20, 2008 - I finally found a pay phone (absolutely no cell service on my path), and the time to phone into GRF. I’ve ridden about 400 miles, and experienced two days of rain, and my first flat tire. There’s a nice coffee shop in Elma, WA that features this wisdom, “Coffee-Chocolate-Men: Some things are just better rich.” Caught my attention.

Thank you for all the personal emails I have received wishing me well on my journey. I will try to answer them as the opportunity allows. I do not have a computer with me, but the librarian in Callum Bay was very generous and helped me with theirs.

Hope, Maine — Before the Ride (Part 2)

May 8, 2008

DID I UNPLUG THE IRON??

Hey, wake up!!

What a crazy dream. Did I unplug the iron? Heck, I haven’t even left on my trip, yet. Won’t do that until Tuesday, May 13th. Why would I be concerned about the iron? Especially when I don’t even own an iron.

My dreams should be centered around my pending bike ride across America and all the different sights I’ll see, all the interesting people I hope to meet, all the unique regional foods I’ll be eating, and all those waiting mountains that I will need to surmount.

Yes, I will fly from Portland, ME to Seattle, WA on May 13th to start an adventure that some folks think about doing, some have done or than many find somewhat far-fetched.

Comparable to the rabbit in “Alice in Wonderland”, I am busy running around wondering if I have done all that I need to do before I leave.

Concerns, concerns, concerns. Have I packed everything that I will need? Why have I packed so much? Will the bike make it? More importantly, will I make it? I’ll answer those questions at another time.

What am I taking with me? Just about everything but the kitchen sink including: stove and related cooking gear, many changes of socks, 2 tubes and many patches, spare tire, tools, maps, Werther’s butterscotch candies, 3 lbs of spicy almonds that I hope will last the entire trip, and a positive attitude. Nearly enough or way too much?

Let me thank those who will take time from busy schedules to share with me what is being done in pursuit of the cure of glaucoma. I look forward to meeting Jodie Miner, an avid cyclist. She’ll be introducing me to several people in the UW Ophthalmology department, folks involved in glaucoma research. Jodie and her husband have opened their home to me during my sojourn.

Another thanks goes out to University of Washington staff, especially Phil Horner, PhD, part of Glaucoma Research Foundation’s Catalyst For a Cure research consortium. Phil’s also a cyclist.

There probably will not be another entry until after May 15 but don’t let there that deter you from checking sooner.

Once again, thank you for supporting my effort, thanks for checking in, and thanks to the many for your help.