Cycling For Sinai

We finished!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

For those of you who have chosen not to watch the exciting finale on video, suffice to say that it was a wonderful capstone to a truly satisfying quest.  Accompanied by two of St. John’s County Sheriff”s Department finest (complete with sirens, lights, and stopped traffic at every intersection), we got to the Atlantic, dipped our tires in the ocean, and dove in.

I have been contemplating how to best sum up our experiences over the past few months.  I think it is best described as a gift.  It was (among other things) a:

-gift of family

-gift of incredibly supportive friends

-gift of seeing America in a unique, intimate, revealing and satisfying way

-gift of representing a national model of urban health care

-gift of incredibly generous support for Sinai Health System’s future

-gift of achieving a tough mental goal

-gift of conquering a physical challenge

-gift of time

-gift of contemplation and thought

-gift of being in a bubble

-gift of putting most of “normal life” on hold

-gift of slowing life down

-gift of being entertained by, and entertaining, those we met along the way

-gift of renewal

-gift of sheer unmitigated fun

Thank you to everyone who made this possible.

Steve and Jacob have turned their dream into a spectacular event! Karen and Joe have also made tremendous contributions!

The riding has been incredible, with all details handled without a glitch. The support from family and friends was phenomenal!

Such wonderful memories, for a very worthy cause! A fabulous time, only wish I could have ridden longer (more days)…

An incredible tribute to Steve, Jacob, Karen, Debbie,  Joe and their special family and friends!

Bob Bensman

There’s been much written about the food and terrain and physical challenges
involved with this adventure, but less attention paid to the interior of the
van — or, what one friend dubbed  the “man cave”.

Organized in a fashion that is entirely apparent to Steve, Jacob and Joe,
though somewhat less so to visitors, the man-cave is home to at least one of
everything available in a bicycle store and much of what you could find at a
Whole Foods.

In addition to bars and gels of every size, shape and protein count, is a
supply of electrolytes, suspicious looking “recovery” powder, jerky, jugs of
water and other fuels.

Then there are the guest bikes, bags, shoes, helmets, etc. Plus an area
called “below” for conveniently shaped items such as extra bikes, bike
boxes, and you get the picture.

All of which all makes good sense, as do the yoga mats, sunblock, butt
butter, paper plates, cups, wipes, etc.

>From there the contents become a little more random. What would you take
along on an eight-week road trip? A scale, a blender, and a chin-up bar? A
memory from each state pinned up for decor?

It is in and around this habitat that the eco-system of Steve, Jacob and Joe
operates. Whether they are calibrating their many tech devices, dipping
almonds in nutella, or spotting each other along the road, the three exist
on their own frequency.

All in all, a special time and a treat to experience.

Thank you!

If for some reason you have never taken a lengthy trip on a bike, you should correct that mistake.  You are missing a unique, wonderful and memorable experience.

First, you travel at a perfect pace.  The landscape unfolds quickly enough for you to be endlessly entertained, but not so fast that you miss the subtleties.  You are going just the right speed to greet the people you come across, stop and chat if you wish, but still can make a satisfying level of progress in a day.  You go at a rate that allows you to digest the world fully.

You are part of the landscape.  There is obviously nothing between you and the world.  Sometimes this is wonderful – you feel minute shifts of weather and environment, you smell everything, you hear everything.  Sometimes not so much – an astonishing number of people have truly nutty things they wish to share with you.  Good news is that you can always politely plead the need to make progress and just ride off.

You have endless time.  A friend asked if i found the time on the the bike monotonous.  Far from.  There is always something to consider.  The pleasure of the particular spot you are in, the goal you have for the next quarter mile, the various aches and pains that are going on at that moment (and there are virtually always some), what you are going to eat next, where you are heading.  Then, of course, there is serious time to think about serious things.  I certainly haven’t solved any of my own or anyone else’ challenges, but i sure have had a lot of time to consider them.

Conversation.  If you are blessed with good companions – and i have been many times over – there is always a good chat to be had.  Sometimes that may be interrupted by a hill, a passing vehicle, or just differing paces, but we always seem to find much to discuss.

You will never have a better excuse to indulge yourself with whatever you want to eat.  Riding a whole day burns a truly astonishing amount of calories.  Better still, you are always starving.  We have fully sampled the pleasures of every region we have visited – without any guilt and without any ill affects on our health.  This alone is probably should motivate at least some people!

We get to truly remote and interesting places.  The backroads of America are full of stories.  I suppose you could drive this path and see some of what we see, but it would be much less satisfying.  Each little town we pass through is a link on our chain.  We ride by the storefronts, get amused by the signage, get a sense of the people and place, and move on.  You see the link between the fields outside of a town and the commerce within.  You can note the number of churches, quality of the school buildings, state of the housing, roads, and other infrastructure.  I have to think most of this is missed if you are going faster – at least I would miss it.

Get a bike and go ride.

We crossed into Florida two days ago.  It was a a great, sad, happy, exciting moment.  We have crossed seven states and one to go.

Florida is sort of what you think of it as.  Parts that are wide open rural areas, parts that are growing distinctly southern crops like peanuts and cotton, parts that are a bit of suburban southern sprawl, part beautiful beaches, and part trashy tourist strips.  Our entrance into Florida was almost comically stereotypical – a long stretch of beautiful ocean front road that was heavily overbuilt with obviously underpopulated condominium towers.  We road through Pensacola, which looked appealing – stretches of gulf front fishing docks and facilities, nice pretty well preserved civil war era downtown, neighborhoods of big, southern frame homes with nice porches where you could easily imagine people inside waiting to offer visitors fresh lemonade.

We have been riding through the land of seafood and bbq for some time now.  Both are in the category of near perfect foods.  we have lucked upon a wide variety of perfect bbq spots.  Yesterday’s lunch was the archetype of the small town lunch counter.  a shack on the side of a lazy country highway, sharing the driveway with the only other commercial establishment for miles, a gas station/food market.  8 tables – mostly occupied by the local fire dept., the local police dept., a couple of farmers, and some lucky travelers.  The perfect sliced pork bbq sandwich – smokey meat, tangy sauce, soft bun, porky beans, soupy slaw, sweet tea.  the lunch of champions.  The seafood is also plentiful – what is on offer does not seem adversely affected by oil spills,  Lots of fresh, sweet shrimp, good grouper sandwiches, and fried oysters.  My only complaint is the over use of the deep fat fryer.  why has frying supplanted all other modes of preparation in the South?  I totally agree that it is the best way to present pickles, but there are other, equally tasty, ways to serve fish.

It is interesting how regional tastes are in the US.  I don’t know how this became the locus of fried cuisine and tooth achingly sweet things, but you can’t eat a meal and think you are anywhere but in the South.

We have ridden by some huge military facilities.  I had always known that long-serving southern Senators were notorious for making sure major military facilities were located in their home districts, but i don’t think i had really processed what that meant.  The area around Pensacola is home to two huge bases – ones where you realize after 30 minutes of riding at a good clip that you are still riding along the base boundary.  The impact on the area is huge – from the commerce generated by the bases to the tone of the community from the military presence.  Quite interesting, and not really something that we see that much in the midwest.

We visited Seaside today – a famous experiment in urban planning (also known for being where the “Truman Show” was filmed).  I am sure Jacob will write more about it.  I thought it was nice – but almost too much so.  It was almost too perfect. Everything is just so – to a point where it felt as much like a movie set as a real place.  it is visually lovely – great to visit, probably nice to spend a few days, but i don’t think it is where i would want to be for any length of time.  it lacked the messiness of real life.

it is getting difficult to deal with the reality that we are almost done.  we have about a week left to ride.  this has been such a perfect adventure that i don’t want to consider what i will feel in St. Augustine.  more on this to follow at some point.