#478: Bumps, Bats…and Bras

I’ve pedaled a bike across
Nevada on Interstate 80.

Two times.

The 411 miles across Nevada’s I-80 is one of those rare places where a bicyclist can legally pedal on the big road because there is not a suitable alternative. On a bike, the route is not for the faint of heart.

Let me give you a glimpse.

#1. The sun beats down with a vengeful mission.

Depending on where in the sky the sun is, sunscreen or not, one side of my face developed a darker tint of deep red than the other side. It is the desert…and there are long stretches of road with no trees for shade or rest. Sunstroke is easy to find.

#2. There are lots of giant filled plastic bottles.

The bottles seem to appropriately correspond with the hundreds of empty beer cans that are also visible. The bottles and cans are an obstacle course.

#3. There’s lots of “bump…bump…bump.”

In stretches, there are miles of indented vibration lines in the emergency shoulder lanes; that’s where I rode. The bumps might be great for waking up sleeping drivers, but they played havoc with my head. I felt like I was giving myself a concussion.

#4. It’s a long, lonely ride.

Lonely…that is…until one of hundreds of giant trucks passed a few feet from me. When that happened, I held on tightly to my handle bars, focused on the road inches in front of me and prepared for my bike to “jump” as the fast-moving big rig sped by and its air momentum lifted me. After a truck passed, I’d whisper into the sky “Thank you!”…and start wishing for more loneliness.

#5. There are lots of interesting items along the road.

In one stretch, I counted a child’s doll, a baseball bat, lots of single shoes, music CD’s and a few women’s undergarments. Each discarded article no doubt had a story about why it took flight out the window. Pedaling alone eight hours a day in the hot sun inspired me to ponder a number of potential stories.

But even more than sunstroke-inspired stories…
what melted into my brain the MOST is this survival lesson:

Find a way.

Here’s what happened on one of my rides.

There was massive repair work being done on I-80. Because of this…fresh, smelly black tar was all over the road. To a car, tar is annoying and messy. It sticks to tires and the sides of the vehicle, and when tar particles bounce up off the road, a driver can hear a “tink” sound as they hit the car’s underbelly.

But black tar is far nastier when on a bike.

My tires picked up the tar so easily that my bike gained pounds of weight. Tar kept building on tar, and the bike became too heavy for my legs to pedal. When I got off the bike and tried to remove the tar using sticks and rocks, real fear struck my heart. The tar didn’t come off.

Find a way.

In desperation, I discovered a metal tire-changing tool and swung it down on the tires as hard as I could. A little surface tar started to chip off. Each time it did, I’d spin the tire to a new position, and continue to punch my tires with the crude chisel. Able to get the top layer off, I’d get back on the bike and pedal.

Every two miles I’d stop and repeat the process.
Finally, the road construction stopped.

Giving up is sometimes not an option.

Experiencing a serious challenge?

Find a way.

There is one.

And when you DO find it…
you’ll affirm that when YOU set a goal, it’s not pretend.