We made it.

The bicycle is not so much a way of getting somewhere as it is a setting for randomness; it makes every journey an unorganized tour.  -Daniel Behrman, author

I can hardly believe it, but we made it.  In 11 weeks, my 26 teammates and I biked 4,029 miles, traversing 11 states, on our journey from Jacksonville, Florida to Monterey, California.  

We cruised along gorgeous back country roads...

and we made do with those that were slightly less inviting. 

We enjoyed live jazz in New Orleans...

and we tried our best to fit in with the honky tonk scene in Texas. 

We froze in icy hail storms...

and we melted through Death Valley’s 117 degree heat.

We indulged in the best parts of traditional Southern cooking...

and we concocted our own, more innovative ways to pack away calories.

We descended for miles among the remarkable red sandstone of Zion Canyon... 

and we climbed the slippery face of Half Dome in Yosemite National Park. 

We were chased by looming rain and thunder storms...

and we were amazed by the spectacular product of their departure. 

We raised $143,538 for the affordable housing cause and we helped build for 17 days in 11 different cities. 

We framed entire houses...

and we totally razed others. 

And all the while...we were developing some great tan lines!

I can take away a lot of valuable lessons from this summer’s adventure. For one, our service work reinforced the importance of volunteering as a tool for building more cohesive communities, as well as a reminder of the hardships that the view from our privileged perspective often spares us.  But this summer, and one ride in particular, also expanded my understanding of what serving others really means. Our ride across Death Valley (yes, really) was one of the most brutal:  84 miles of 117-degree heat in the shadeless and desolate Mojave Desert.  Add in a late start to the day and a flat tire on our trailer and you get one very ... tough ... day.  With about 40 miles left to ride, my cycling-mate Allison and I huddled beneath a road sign offering a square of shade the size of a suitcase that we hoped would offer relief from the heat.  

Spotting us from the road, a car pulled alongside our coveted rest stop, rolled down their window (sacrificing precious A/C, mind you) and asked us, “Are you insane?”  To which we unhesitatingly responded in lifeless tone, “Yesss.”  They generously offered us ice-cold water and Gatorade, and as we chugged it down, we explained the scope and purpose of our bicycle journey.  Though they had just dropped off their mother and were headed homeward, when they heard there were 27 of us making our way along Death Valley Road in the peak of the day’s heat, they altered their plans.  They drove back to where they had started, loaded up their car and for four hours shuttled back and forth delivering ice water, Gatorade, and wet towels to our riders. 

The kindness of this couple -- Randy and Shelly, as we came to know them -- was above and beyond, but not wholly unusual.  We encountered spontaneous acts of generosity almost every day, as I remember it, throughout our trip.  It was these sorts of experiences that led me to see community service as not just organized volunteer work, but simply lending a hand when you can.  

I know the term is overused, but this adventure has been “awesome” in the truest sense of the word, as the photos I have included I hope will convey.  

I waded into the Pacific Ocean on August 3 with 27 unforgettable friends -- my bike, and 26 fellow travelers from 17 different states -- as well as a basic camaraderie with all cyclists who take to the road!  While I am sad to see the journey come to a close, and even miss (a little) the hills and the heat, I already find myself thinking about more adventures like it.  

To the “Bike-and-Builds” of the future!  

Thank you all for making this adventure possible.  The enthusiasm and encouragement you sent in messages along the way were the wind at my back and the air in my tires. 

Sincerely, 

Maggie

You know you are back in NorCal when...

- Trees are a thing again.
- You have had sprouts and avocado on your sandwich two days in a row.
- You bike 80 miles basically uphill, walk into a store, and aren't the grungiest one in there.
- Chaco sandals begin to outnumber cowboy boots.
- You spend 5 minutes trying to figure out the appropriate recycle/compost/trash bin to throw your lunch waste in.
- You aren't the only cyclists on the road.
- Giants caps are everywhere!
- You need a sweatshirt at night.

Eat. Sleep. Bike. Build.

Besides biking and building we spend a lot of time eating...well, anything and sleeping...well, anywhere. What can we say but when Bike and Builders are in need of some calories or some shut-eye on the road, we aren't too picky. Take a look at some of the wild caloric concoctions and napping nooks we have come up with.

Brownie, peanut butter, potato chips.

Burger with cheese and... gummy bears. 

Not enough calories in Lasagna for ya? Add two pieces of bread for a Lasagna sandwich.

Carrot peanut butter and jelly. 

Sharing is always appropriate when it comes to a good nap spot. 

Turkey nutella sandwich. 

Why not grab a quick nap while your bike is getting worked on?

Clif Bar ice cream. Perfect snack for a warm ride. 

What better time to partake in an eating challenge than in the middle of a century ride? With the incentive of receiving the burger half-off upon completion, these two pound burgers were swallowed in less than 10 minutes by these two studs.  

Peanut butter, jelly and cheese balls.

Potato salad, bean casarole, and cucumber salad. 

Chicken and rice...and brownie. 

Underpasses...coveted shade in the desert. 

Garlic bread, quiche sandwich.  

Peanut butter, mozzarella, and BBQ sauce. 

Got salt? When times are rough (in Death Valley's 118 degree heat) try your dried sweat arms. 

Where oh where to seek refuge in Death Valley??

The one tree within 50 miles in Oklahoma. Poppin' for nap time.

Bike and Build Problems

-We aren't fat enough to activate traffic light sensors.
-Someone opened the creamy peanut butter instead of the crunchy.
-We can't get milkshakes at Sonic because it is 9am and it isn't open yet.
-They don't make tooth paste squeezers big enough for my bottle of chamois BUTT'r
-I can't tell if that bump is a heat rash, saddle sore, or bug bite.
-Grape gatorade day?!
-I am thirsty and have a swig gatorade left but need to save it to squirt in case a dog attacks.
-The line for the pump is longer than the line for the bathroom.
-This granola bar only has 100 calories in it.
-Our first day off in a month is on a Sunday and we are staying in a church that needs us out of their facilities by 7am for mass.
-I can't tell if it is Oreo dust or dirt in the peanut butter.
-We only have 3 week old hot dog buns to make a PB and J with.
-Toilet paper is neither an expectation nor a requirement.
-Children are pointing and staring at me because of my tan lines.
-I just chamois buttered in front of the McDonald's drive thru.
-There are no trees to pop a squat behind in the desert...oh well!
-No alarm and yet I can't sleep past 7am.

The South, my take-aways

• Jesus is everywhere. If the "Jesus is coming soon!" signs along the highway or all of the "May the good Lord bless your souls" we get from many kind folks didn't already make me feel that "Jesus" is everywhere down here, the entrance sign Claudesville, Oklahoma took care of that:  "Jesus is Lord! Welcome to Claudesville." During one thunderstorm, a number of my teammates sought cover in a McDonald's. Dressed in dripping wet spandex, they quickly attracted attention. After explaining our journey and cause, a woman in the McDonald's asked if  she could pray for them. When they responded yes, a group prayer circle ensued in the McDonald's customers and employees together hand in hand! 

In case you can't read it, the license plate says, "Jesus Chris is the Answer." I have seen many of these. 

• It is really HOT down here. I think this picture says it all. 

• Southern hospitality is real. The generosity of the hosts who have graciously welcomed (and often fed) 27 sweaty (and hungry) riders into their churches, gyms, and even homes has really blown us away. One of our favorite hosts thus far, Sally in Dallas, sums up what we have found Southern hospitality to mean. Sally opened up her entire house (including her own bed!) to our team for 3 days while her and her husband took to their RV. She greeted us upon arrival with a pool, hot tub, and an endless supply of milkshakes and beer. She lent us her cars to check out the area on our own and even paid for us to spend an afternoon at a water park. Aside from all of the material comforts she spoiled us with, I think most of team would agree her warm and friendly nature really made us feel quite at home. 

The Over-21ers being spoiled in Dallas.

Another southern home that kindly opened their doors to our team in Elm Grove, Louisiana. Jumping in that lake after a 90 mile ride through southern heat...amazing.

• Southern cookin' = awesome. Hand in hand with the southern hospitality has come amazing southern cuisine including shrimp boils, sweet tea, pulled pork, and (my personal favorite) homemade biscuits. The food is especially appreciated given the enormity of the cyclist appetite.

Shrimp boil dinner provided by a host. 

Awesome start to a ride day provide by a host including sweet potato biscuits and pulled pork egg casserole.

MMmmm...biscuits straight out of the oven.

• I'm not in California anymore. Conservatism is no secret. I will just highlight two encounters: 1. When wrapping up a conversation with two older men about our trip one says, "Can I ask y'all a question? What do you think about the shape of the country?" and the other cuts in, "Don't ask them that! You know who put Obama in the White House in the first place...them college kids!" 2. When explaining to a man at a gas station what we are doing, his first question is, "Well where are your husbands?" When my friend (with very short hair) responded that she doesn't have one, he says, "Is it the hair?" (I guess this is more traditionalism, but a good story nonetheless). 

• Gun culture. "Y'all should be carrying pistols in those backpacks of urs. There crazy folk out thur," said a very kind older gentlemen I met in a gas station. As I mentioned earlier, Sally in Dallas was kind enough to lend us all of her cars to explore the area. Before her husband handed out the keys I saw him counting on his fingers up to  5 and then turn back to Sally and say, "Gotta get the guns outta the cars before they use 'em." Another host in Texas offered shooting guns in the backyard as a fun activity along the same lines as watching TV or playing board games. When we acted surprised she responded, "Y'all don't shoot guns where ya from? That's inturesting." 

• Misc.

Drive-thru liquor store advertising $3 jello shot special!

Lots of hay bales. 

Lots of corn fields (and other plantations).

Lots of trucks. 

If you can't read it, the sign on the right says, "You don't need teeth to eat my beef"

Lots of Confederate Flags