1K down, 3K to go

It's kind of daunting to start this blog after two weeks on the road., so I'll start with some simple things I've done and seen since we began the ride May 30.We've biked some 1,000-odd miles since that morning in Central Park when we all ate Captain Crunch, huddled around a water fountain and waiting for that moment when we'd all reset our odometers and start pedaling toward the George Washington Bridge, toward Hillsborough NJ, toward Portland, and most of all into the unknown. These days only two things are certain: we will bike west, and we will eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. As the days wear on, though, that unknown has become familiar, and the miles have begun to melt away behind us.We've scaled and descended (and scaled and descended, and scaled and descended, and scaled...) the Appalachian Mountains. More than any other obstacle on this trip, the Appalachians loomed large for me, but they weren't nearly as bad as I had expected. That's not to say they weren't hard - oh yes, we had a few tough days. I can't say I was in top form before the ride, and the nearest thing I'd seen to a mountain this spring was a highway overpass, so I wasn't quite sure what to expect of a proper mountain range. In my worst nightmares, I would be climbing a wall for miles on end until my knees buckled or my heart gave out. The truth wasn't quite as bad, though in central PA there were a few hilly passes that must have been built by some sadistic civil engineer - each bend in the road seemed to be the summit, but around each corner lay an impossibly steeper stretch of road to climb. Of course, what goes up, must come down, and tearing down a mountainside at top speed is one of the most ludicrously satisfying things I've ever done. On one of the steeper descents, I clocked myself going (Mom, skip to the next paragraph) 49.5 mph. Now that we've hit Indiana the terrain has pretty much leveled out, and though the 80-mile days through the mountains would tear me down by dinner time, I miss the challenge of the hills.We've ridden a century (100 miles), plus 8 more miles for good measure. Two weeks ago that seemed a laughably long distance to try to ride a bike, but Friday we did it, Zanesville OH to Richmond IN (I think, the days start to blend together now) in a single shot. Aside from this ride as a whole, that century ride might be one of the most incredible things I've done, on a bike or otherwise.More than the biking, though, people have impressed me. The, churches, and families that have hosted us have been incredibly generous, opening their doors to us and lavishing food on 23 ravenous cyclists. As we sit in traffic awaiting a green light, drivers who read the backs of our jerseys ("Riding 4000 miles for Cancer Research") will roll down their windows to hand us donations. Sometimes these people drive off before we can even properly thank them, but at water stops and pit stops we can engage strangers in a conversation about what we're doing and why we're doing it. One of my favorite parts of this trip has been seeing other people truly inspired by our ride, which they connect to for any number of reasons: because they have had a personal cancer experience, because we're young people getting out to see this country, or because they think we're crazy for even attempting the ride - and they like it. Riders, too, have been equally impressive. Like Isaac said the other day, we each bring our own stories and our own motivations to this trip, and we can draw strength and inspiration from our fellow riders.Otherwise, I've eaten half my body weight in ice cream and sleep eight hours a night. Life is good, and I look forward to the next 3K.-T