Day 59 - The End cont'd....

OK so the final one of these from the road. They’ll be one more in a week or so, but that’s once I’ve gone back to edit the whole thing, and will be super nerdy advice for other future cyclists thinking of doing this. So for all intents and purposes this is it. 

I’m not really sure how to go about this, yesterday was about one thing, and one thing only, finishing, but before Manhattan there was Jersey, so let’s clear that out first. 

With under 40 miles left I was up late yesterday, and then for reasons I can’t really work out I found myself delaying leaving. Months dreaming of this day, and for some strange reason I was dragging my heals. The ride itself up through Jersey was decent enough, through comfortable leafy suburbs and the perfectly reasonable city of Newark. They were mostly middle management and smart working class sleeper towns, and whilst I could’ve done with out the hills, there was little to complain about.

There was only one strangeness. It was so hazy you couldn’t make out Manhattan to the East. With the tunnels closed to cyclists I pushed 20 miles north parallel to the city, along ridges and yet could hardly make out the city. Would’ve been unsettling if the GPS hadn't been clearly showing the island outline 10 miles off to the East. 

It also meant the view was saved for the moment I pushed up over the West cliffs of the Hudson, and onto the pedestrian bridge of the George Washington Bridge. 

I’m not really sure how to express how it felt. It was perfect, from the moment I crossed the river to the moment I turned into Jamie and Behati’s street. It was exactly as I’d dreamed it would be, and then some. I smiled so widely and so much, my jaw ached. It didn’t feel surreal, it didn’t strange, in fact it felt so perfect, that was the only oddness. 

After a hazy view from the bridge down river to downtown (and a seriously unpleasant bout of vertigo), I wound down through the streets to the Greenway; the bike path that tracks the whole west side of the island along the river. To a sound track of classic rock, I watched the street numbers fall from 158th to 42nd. Sun reflecting off the water and onto the wall of river mansion blocks, it was magic, pure magic.

At 42nd and the vast aircraft carrier in town for Memorial day, I turned East for a photo at Times Square, but for some reason it didn’t feel final enough. A wayward search for the Rockefeller building took me past the building pictured to the right. But once there for some reason going up the top of the Rock didn’t seem right either, so I canned the idea on the spot. 

On a recommendation from a few weeks ago, I hammered it back onto the greenway, South of Jamie and Behati’s, passed the World Trade Centre and onto the very tip of the Island, to the shimmering sea and Lady Liberty in the distance. If it sounds poetic, it was. It was perfect. As the Statue of Liberty came into view, unplanned the first drop in the Killers’ Human was  blaring though my headphones. Difficult to describe the feeling. Awesome would be just the start.

But strangely for me this has always been about cycling door to door. From Colin and Lisa’s in Santa Monica to Jamie and Behati’s in Alphabet City. So I turned North, and as I hit Avenue C, and areas I know, I’d love to claim I kept it all to together, I didn’t. Swinging into Jamie and Behati’s road I was just thinking I need to find my phone and the text instructions and there was a shout from down the road, and there they were on the porch with a bottle of chilled Verve at the ready. It was perfect, really perfect in every way. 

I’m going to leave it there. It’s really not sunk in, it feels surreal. Really really surreal that it’s done. That it’s over. Somewhere near 4000 miles, 8 weeks, 17 states and one district, deserts, swamps, cities, mountains, fires, beaches, tornados, close shaves, pain, stress, sleep deprivation, and much more beside, and I’m here in one piece. And today there's nothing to worry about, it’s done. A stupid pub bet, and it’s done, and I’m relaxed as it’s possible to be on a sofa in New York.

I’ve been asked a many times "why do it." And I really can't answer that question. Just to do it, I guess. Why does anyone do anything?

So that just leaves me some thanks to add. I suppose I could claim this was unsupported, but it hasn’t felt it. This is not the place for abstract thanks to all the little and large acts of kindness from so many people all across this brilliant country, vital and amazing as they've been. This is the place for thanks for support from those I know. First and foremost the amazing support from Colin, Lisa, Kate, Al, Jamie and Behati, who’ve so kindly opened their homes to me, and made me more than welcome. These 3 stays have been more vital to keeping me going than any of them realize. 

But there is also a huge thanks to everyone who read my mindless dribblings on this thing over the weeks, and emailed, texted and commented with support, teasing and advice (including remarkable amounts of advice on my diet). Whilst writing this has at times felt like a chore, it was worth it. Having that level of support, knowing people are rooting for you, has been awesome, seriously awesome. 

Finally and very importantly thank you to all those people who so kindly sponsored me. Your generosity has been epic, and will help the MS Trust with their brilliant work. If you’ve been waiting for me to finish, the page stays open for a while, so any help is huge appreciated (http://www.justgiving.com/wwhiteuscoasttocoast).

So that’s it. It’s been hard, fun, brilliant, scary, epic and to steal an overused quote, emotional.

Route - Newark -Kearny - Rutherford - New York City

Breakfast - Rather disappointing granola and croissant from Starbucks in the hotel.

Done, really done

Lunch - Italian sub and crisps - A Deli in Rutherford, that I forget to get the name of. Decent sandwich and good banter with the other punters.

Snacks - Walkers Prawn Cocktail and Crunchie bar. Jamie and Behati had shipped in British goodies for my arrival. Champagne, Walkers and a Crunchie, how all good times in life should end.

Supper - Beetroot salad and sorbet - Gemma’s, Bowery Hotel - Kind of food I’ve been dreaming of, fresh simple and tasty. Nothing breaded, fried, or broiled. Cool restaurant on the pumping, pulsing streets of the East Village. Perfect.

I was originally going to be strict about stopping on yesterday, but there is one food point I want to add from this morning. Right is what Jamie and Behati treated me to this morning. Tea in a tea pot, back bacon, Gentlemen’s relish, Heinz beans, black pudding, the whole hog. Waking up late, with nothing to worry about and this on the table was so brilliant, I’m out of superlatives to describe it. The perfect full stop to the whole trip.

Day 59 - The End

Done. If you zoom in, that's Lady Liberty in the background. I'm off to drink.

Day 58 - Just across the river

This trip had one final first up it’s sleeve. I believe I’m the first man in history to be deliriously happy about seeing Newark Airport. Unlike everyone else in the hotel lounge who just wishes their secretary had booked JFK when they’d asked, I couldn’t be happier. 

Philly from afar

It’s the first familiar sight in 8 weeks, and boy does it feel good. My hotel window doesn’t look North East so I can’t see Manhattan, which I’m oddly glad about. Would rather take that on tomorrow.

Today’s been slower than expected, and it was a race against the setting sun to make the hotel on the Newark Airport ring road. The root cause of this is simple, I’ve not left urban areas all day. I’ve ridden clean across Philadelphia from the South West fringe to within sight briefly of, what I think were, the towers of Jersey City. 100 miles if you include a couple of silly wrong turns, and yet I’ve never left built up areas, not even for a mile. 

Most of the towns were pretty standard middle class enclaves of strip malls and SUV, with the odd 5 miles through some seriously tough looking neighborhoods. None more so than South and West Philly. Beaten up roads, beaten up houses, and a general air of neglect about the whole place. Not sure what Penn would make of his big experiment today, but it’s a bit frayed to say the least. That said, everyone I asked for directions from was helpful to a fault, and I only saw the downtown from afar as I pushed on hard for New Jersey.

The rest of the day was hard work. It’s flattened out massively, but the constant stop starting at the lights, heavy traffic all day, and some of the most variable roads of the whole trip, made it a mentally exhausting day; just so much to try and keep under control. It didn’t help that the GPS was having an off day, and 3 times shot me out onto 4 lane highways without any shoulders, meaning I had to reroute on the hoof.

But it was worth it. There’s 25 miles to George Washington Bridge and Manhattan. Then 10 miles on and it’s done. If my slightly odd reaction to seeing Newark is anything to go by, it should be quite a thing. On the basis it may all be slightly blubbering drivel tomorrow, there are a few things I wanted to just cover off at this point.

Firstly a huge thank you to everyone who’s sponsored so far (http://www.justgiving.com/wwhiteuscoasttocoast). Your donations have far exceeded what I expected, and will be very helpful to great work the MS Trust does.

Secondly there are two questions I seemed to have got by email more than any other, so here are the answers. My backside is fine, in fact more than fine. It’s the oddest thing but it’s really never been a concern. A bit of care and attention and some cyclists gel and I’ve had no trouble. So hopefully that should be the end of those questions. 

As for the impact on my body, there’s no six pack coming back to Heathrow, but all my clothes are definitely looser. My legs though look extraordinary. I’ve always rather rated my pins, but I caught the back of them in the motel mirror a couple of nights ago, and there are muscles I didn’t even know should be there.

Route - Chester - Darby - Philadelphia - Princeton - New Brunswick - Newark

Newark

Breakfast - French Toast - Dawn’s Dinner. They made a far better breakfast than they cooked a T-Bone.

Lunch - Tune sandwich, crisps and milkshake. Wawa. Same as yesterday, just as good.

Supper - Hummus and Beef sandwich at the hotel. Good, but basically the kind of food businessmen eat before a flight.

Day 56-57 - Three states in two days

Rather than get behind on this again, I’m going to pop up a post today. There are a couple of issues with this. One, as you may have spotted there are no photos. Yesterday with brooding rain clouds over head all day, which never broke, the camera was buried deep in the saddle bag. Then today it was all a little head down, and by the time I’d relaxed a bit there wasn’t a whole lot to photograph, or for reasons I’ll get onto I didn’t really fancy flashing my camera about. 

The second issue, as a warning, is this may not be most cheerful post. The route cause of this is simple, hills. Relentless short sharp hills mile after mile after mile. In fact it wasn’t till the last ten miles of today I finally came off the Fall Line and back into normality.

It’s not that the hills are huge, I saw much bigger in Arizona and Texas, it’s just the frequency. I lost count of the number of times I rushed down 50, 100, 200m just to come straight up the other side. At least in Arizona, you slog it up 2 hours, but you‘re rewarded with a 1 hour decent the other side and a breathtaking view. Here there is no relief, just another hike uphill the other side. In the whole trip I’ve not walked up so many hills, and it just feels like a kick in the bits to be walking at this stage.

In fact I know I should be over the moon at the moment, but the reality is I’m rather over it now. Sure this will change once Manhattan comes into view, but right now I’ve had enough. Enough of the mothers every morning driving you into ditches so they can get their tubby diddums to school; enough of feeling sweaty and smelly non stop; enough of the snobby looks you get for being dressed as I am; enough of the dull pain in my knees; enough of feeling constantly worried about that rogue idiot in a pick up who cuts the gap too fine; enough of the odd suburban twerp who learns out the window to tell you to get out the way of their banal lives; enough of the motels. You get the picture. It’s been amazing up till now, but now I just want it to be over.

It’s a shame, because it’s been interesting country I’ve passed through since Monday. Unfortunately none of the states I passed through were marked on the smaller roads, so there is no photographic evidence, but I’ve passed through Maryland and Delaware, and I’m now in West Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. 

Whilst I’m not sure at what point I left the country suburbs of Baltimore and entered the same of Philadelphia, it’s fascinating countryside. In the rolling hills you pass through towns, villages and farming communities that were seriously old when Mason and Dixon set out the line that would later cut the nation in half. If Virginia was all about the Civil War, much of the history in Maryland seemed focused on the war of 1812, where the British a little punch drunk on the power of putting Napoleon on Elba for the first time, decided to head over the Atlantic for a slightly vindictive trash and burn session. 

As there are no photos, you have to trust me it’s beautiful and very peaceful. Which is not what I can say about Baltimore. Seeing it at rush hour with a thunder cloud overhead probably didn’t help, but the downtown seemed crowded, and I hate to be harsh, a little uninteresting. What was interesting though was the stark differences in the neighborhoods from the South West and the North East. 

The South West was quite startlingly poor. I’m ashamed to admit I was really quite nervous riding through, but this is were so much of HBO’s The Wire is based,  and it’s hard to detach that from reality in your mind. The North East by comparison was serious genteel. Clustered round the John Hopkins University were some of nicest urban areas I can think of. I know London has some seriously extreme wealth disparities, so there is an element of log in your own eye to this comment, but the difference just miles apart was quite stunning.

So that’s it for today. I’m locked up in a shabby motel near the Philly airport. It’s got that sad air of a place no one wants to be, which is probably accurate. I’ll not be sad to push on tomorrow morning, but with a ride through Philadelphia’s historic centre, then up through Princeton, hopefully as high as Newark tomorrow, through flat countryside, I’m pretty sure things will look brighter. 

Route - Rockville - Baltimore - Lutherville - Wilmington, DE - West Philadelphia

Thursday 24 May

Breakfast - Motel standards

Lunch - Buffalo chicken sub and crisps - Subway

Supper - Seafood salad and Roll sushi plate - Yamato Sushi, Lutherville. Fantastic sushi, right next to REI, so had a peaceful little evening looking at bike gear and eating sushi. Shamelessly young professional.

Wednesday 25 May

Breakfast - No breakfast at motel, so oatmeal, fruit, smoothie and a cinnamon bun at McDonalds. I’ve said it before, but it’s a good and healthy feed.

Lunch - Tuna sandwich, crisps and a milkshake - Wawa Petrol Station, Dublin. Best chain of petrol stations, good sandwich and cracking milkshake, from D’Real. All round, a good lunch.

Supper - T-Bone Steak - Dawn’s Dinner. It’s in the motel, and this area is the definition of “don’t go out after dark” so I was stuck with this. Dreadful dreadful steak. Over cooked, flabby and just one of the most depressing places to eat. Not looking forward to breakfast there.

Day 52-55 Into Maryland

Right after a few days off, here is the Virginia and Washington post. There’re good reasons for the delay, long days, technical problems to sort out in the evening and being a huge tourist, but the problem is I’ve now got rather a lot to say as the last four days have been some of the best of the trip.

Riding up the beautiful Potomac river last night with first the Washington monument, then the Capitol dome, then the whole sweep of the city opening out on the North bank, was really special. Getting to the Atlantic felt good, but this felt amazing, really grin from ear to ear amazing. As the last 15 miles was all along a bike path it also had an amazing sound track, a little classic rock heavy (Zeppelin, Dire Straits, Pink Floyd, etc) but pretty sure the genre was invented for moments like this.

The strange thing though is it was just another high point in a 3 day stretch of high points. Whilst sweating through the desert, swamps and mountains of the South and West Virginia, Richmond, crossing the Potomac, standing on the Mall, these things took on a rather mythical hugeness in my mind. And it’s not disappointed. 

Northern North Carolina has got a charm, but I’m pretty sure all the buggering around and doing as little as possible, whilst relaxing, would drive you round the bend after a little bit. Crossing the Virginia border the change was almost instant. Seeing as Richmond was the Confederate capital it’s almost silly to say but it felt very different to the deep South. 

It’s a very tedious British tourist trait to try and compare everywhere in the world to back home (“oh look Camilla, doesn’t downtown Mogadishu remind you of Shaftesbury in summer,” that kind of nonsense), but Virginia really really does have echoes of home. Winding roads through woods and green fields in gently rolling countryside, squint and you really could be in the West Country. 

Squinting of course will hide the fact the farm houses look  different, but the concept is very much the same. Unlike a lot of the deep South which was often surprisingly heavily populated in rural areas, in a way we’re not used to back home, much of rural Virginia appears to set out in a far more familiar way. Whilst I’ve seen only one or two of the plantation palaces, mostly I’ve passed endless manor houses, especially in the Southern end of the state. And whilst some looked like they’d seen better days, there is clearly a little bit more cash sloshing around in Virginia, Especially as you get into Richmond and then Washington D.C.’s spheres.

Unfortunately the first night in Virginia I picked a motel in the rather unnerving end of Petersburg. And after a night behind a double looked door I was glad to get onto highway 1 North to Richmond. 

Highway 1 is like heading through the cradle of American history. Every ridge has another sign to a battlefield of any of the 3 wars that have raged on the American mainland. It’s also a vast commercial highway, so you have the juxtaposition of the fascinating and the old amongst the U-Hauls, McDonalds, and every other franchise you can think of. Like historic sites you see tucked off the edges of motorways out of London.

Richmond was surprise. Given it’s place in American history there is no reason it should’ve been, but it was. Once North of the river the city is handsome looking place, with a lively and well maintained city centre, and the university area is charming. Unfortunately I’d set myself a goal of Fredericksburg a fair few miles North, so my visit was brief and I needed to crack on. Not least because the terrain has seriously ratcheted up a notch, and I now seem to be permanently heading up or down hill, as I push along the Fall Line.

Much of the ride North all the way to short of Washington has been lovely, rural B-roads winding up through hills and little villages of Central and Northern Virginia. As t was a weekend, I had company of other day cyclists, who’ve given me great local advice and generally provided me with company. Fredericksburg was a good stop over, and with the influence of Washington the options for food and accommodation are definitely improving.

After a good few hours in the country suburbs of Washington yesterday, there was a few stretches in manic suburbs, then 20 miles out from the city it all improved. I’m not sure what I thought Washington would be like, and I’d heard funny things on route. The reality has been wonderful. 

Guess it will be no surprise to any of you who’ve been but this is a great city. The thought of city run by lawyers and focused souly of politics didn’t really appeal, but if you count the city all the way out to Mount Vernon, it’s a wonderful place.

I was knew I’d be impressed with the White House, the Mall and all all the obvious stuff, and I was, arriving in with the setting sun last night. What I had not expected was a quiet ride through a Marine Base (our military should be ashamed of their married quarters after seeing some of the stuff in there) and then on down the beautiful banks of the Potomac.

There are many ways to arrive in Washington, and flying in down the river must be amazing, but cycling along the banks of the Potomac river with the sun mellowing and the city slowly coming into view in the distance was unbelievable after weeks on the road. Truly special.

My route brought me over the Arlington Memorial bridge and straight onto the Mall behind the Lincoln memorial. The reflecting pool may have been drained for repairs, but it’s still one of the happiest sights I can remember seeing. In fact I was so delirious even my in built vanity was overridden, so if you look carefully you can see delightful helmet hair in the picture in front of the Washington Memorial.

Unfortunately realized I wanted to stick around for a full day in Washington too late. The America Israel PAC convention on at the moment, and it is no exaggeration to say there are no hotel rooms in Washington tonight. I mean literally not one, it’s extraordinary, so to my serious frustration today has been a rather hassled day getting the computer sorted, washing done, and basically getting back out on the road.

I did get a chance to swing by Barak’s gaff, and to see the colonial area of Georgetown, which whilst pretty I thought was less attractive than Alexandria just south in Virginia. Then it’s been back out on the bike 25 miles north to the suburb of Rockville, Maryland. 

My mood on the whole matter is not improved by the fact I’m really feeling the lack os sleep now. The push up the East coast was pretty full on, and long days and issues to deal with in the evening, on top of the usual meant I really needed a good rest last night. Unfortunately I’d picked the hotel were the youth members of the AIPAC convention were staying. 

Whilst there’s no escaping the fact I’ve rarely seen a higher density of full blood geeks ever (which I guess is understandable; if you spend your university years going to political conventions there is an above average chance you’re huge nerd), man were they in the party zone. So compliments of dross pop and dancing upstairs and next door last night I’m still shattered.

Whilst on the topics of geeks and Washington, I don’t know if it’s a comparative thing after weeks in the south and west where definitions of masculinity and femininity are fairly one dimensional and rugged, Washington seemed to be a city of intellectuals. It’s not an unpleasant experience , just different. And finally I felt less pressure to pretend to locals, in cafes, that sitting in a swamp on a rusty boat fishing is my idea of a good time. 

Any way with the 25 miles locked down today and the sleep interruptions starting to bite, I’ve decided to go easy tomorrow and have just a 65 miler to just East of Baltimore ahead. Then, fingers crossed it’s Philly, Jersey and New York by Friday. 

Route - New Bern - Petersburg - Richmond - Fredericksburg Mount Vernon - Washington D.C. - Rockville

Food

Afraid I really can’t face writing up a full food lowdown. Might just be luck of the drawn, but the food hasn’t been as good through Virginia as the rest of the South. Not to say it’s been bad, just not as good as some other places. Washington food was awesome though, not for the gourmet meals or high end dining but for two simple reasons; Nandos and Pret a Manger. I’ve tired of both chains back home, but geez did it taste good to have some home tastes for the first time in a while.

Update on route...

A combination of long days and wasted time in the evening, trying unsuccessfully sort out the card reader, means I'm 3 days behind with this. Need to rest the knees and sort a few things out tomorrow, so the update will come then....hopefully filled with stellar pictures from my SLR camera, if one of the errands goes to plan.

The good news is, as the rubbish iphone taken picture above shows, I'm resting up in Washington D.C. Feels amazing to have made it here, but you'll have to wait till tomorrow for the full dose of emotional waffle on the topic, because I'm shattered and heading to be. Night.

Day 50-51 - Hiccup in New Switzerland

Unfortunately this is going to be a brief and pictureless post. The card reader is on the blink, so none of the photos will transfer. If the problem persists I'll pick up a new reader in Richmond, and come back and edit these posts.

It's been another two days of hard cycling, trying to push closer and closer to the finish line. In terms of countryside there really isn't anything new to add, once off the coast it's been more of the flat or very lightly undulating farm land. North Carolina's clearly much poorer, more rural and more sparsely populated than it's grander sibling to the South, but not unpleasant for it.

The whole experience is rather like riding for hour after hour in Norfolk without the hope of ever hitting Norwich. The countryside's very similar, flat and arable, and the people have the same decent and peaceful outlook, if tempered by a slight stand offishness to outsides. It's in no way unpleasant as an attitude, just different from the outright curiosity and the very rare hostility encountered up till now. I'm sure it's no coincidence settlers just north of here over the state line name their city Norfolk.

Unfortunately it's not been plain sailing, hence the delayed post. 75 miles into yesterday, just outside New Bern, the spring in one of the clip in pedals sheared, but it could not have happened in a better place. There was a couple of great little bike shops in town, one which fitted new pedals whilst the other looked at my gears again. 

And whilst this meant I couldn't make the final 40 miles to the next town with a motel in the light, there are worse places in the world to get stuck. Founded by some adventurous Swiss, which seemed a novel concept, in the 1700s it clearly had it's hay day pre the Civil War, and has then mellowed into a beautiful little town packed with georgian and victorian streets. 

There's a lovely genteel charm to the place and before settling into some serious re-routing planning (as there are few towns with motels in North North Carolina) I had a good look around, including a visit to the birth place os Pepsi. Where the tourist gene in me took hold, and I'm now the proud owner of a Pepsi T-Shirt I see limited chances of me wearing.

So there it is, the Broads via a hiccup in New Switzerland. With a little rerouting and some stretches on the highway today it looks like I might be able to make the 40 miles up before Washington DC. And fingers crossed we are still looking at the Grande Pomme next week.

Route - Surf City - New Bern - Washington, NC - Plymouth, NC - Edenton

Breakfast - Odd snack collection in my room, bought the night before, as the motel had no breakfast

Lunch - Turkey and Beef sub - The Cafe in Pollocksville. Better than Subway, but not by much.

Supper - Alligator bites and Fish Tacos. A cafe in New Bern whose name escapes me. Alligator was great, but the fish tacos were nasty. Deep fried fish, not blackened as I've had before, and the tacos were hard. Not happy. That said was amused by 4 old boys, on the next table, in there mid to late 70s who clearly has off games chits from there wives and were on the piss big time, and flirting like cocky 18 year olds with the waitresses. Highly amusing, and solid effort for still having the fight in them

Breakfast - Motel standards

Lunch - Philly Cheese Steak - A tiny grocery store and cafe in the middle of nowhere. Food was fairly standard, but there was something blissfully mellow about the place. Laid back was just the half of it, could've stayed there all afternoon. That said I have my suspicions about what made it so mellow. The chap sat outside was so baked (red staring eyes, giggling) he literally could not work out my accent. In his stoned head I think he thought he spoke to some one who spoke no English.

Supper - Grilled chicken sandwich - Wendys. Only place within walking distance of the motel. It was a Wendys with Fox News for company, enough said.