That time I picked up my crappy bike, trained for 2 days, and hit the road…

Back in March 2020, right when pandemic restrictions kicked in, a couple of friends I were enjoying a nice rice and bean dinner when we started talking about traveling. Not plans on traveling, but moreso how traveling is done these days, how it can get over complicated by over planning and not just going with the flow. Between flight and hotel options, what to do and see, and of where to even go in the first place.

Jokingly, I said…

You know, I could just grab my bike tomorrow and bike to California, there’s nothing stopping me. I don’t really need much of plan lol

Again, it was a joke mostly. The next morning, I look up if it is legal to bike on the interstate (foolishly I only look it up in AZ, and it was…I think). So the legality checked out for the most part.

Then I began thinking about the mileage, depending on the route, it was roughly 450 miles. The farthest I have EVER ridden at that point was somewhere around 25 miles. I figured, well, I used to run a lot, maybe some of the old lung capacity and muscle endurance would kick in.

Then as for logistically how, I put 80% of my thought into this as in “meh, I’ll figure it out right”. So over the course of the next about 2 weeks, I bought a backpack with a water bladder, 2 bike bags, a simple 1-person tent, and that was about it.

On March 13th, 2020, I left for California, Los Angeles specifically.

Day 1

74 miles, 5:15, feeling good

I made it from Phoenix, AZ to Tonopah, AZ. Was mostly city riding for the first half, then the open road on the I-10. Was a surreal feeling, being that exposed to the 75+ mph cars just feet away. I was equally scared and at 10/10 joy. I remember yelling at the top of my lungs when I’d hit a speedy downhill, enjoying every second of it. Day 1 was definitely tiring, but I’d feel it more the next day.

Camped out a couple of hundred feet from the road, stupidly didn’t bring a sleeping bag, slept no more than 3 constantly interrupted hours from shivering. All in all, a good day for a new experience

Day 2

95 miles, 6:02, EVERYTHING HURTS AND I WANT TO DIE

Oh boy, I thought I knew pain till this day. So logically, butt, thighs, and calves should hurt. But I was riding for so long that even my palms, shoulders, back, chest, and neck were killing me. This day was the only day I could decide to give up or keep going, I could go back and call it, but if I went forward there was no turning back.

I went for it.

Every bump in the road was pain straight up the ass. Mounting and dismounting was brutal. Fortunately, my parents felt so bad about how much pain I was in, that they decided to get my motels for the rest of the way to LA. I really don’t remember much other than being mentally and physically miserable for the next few days. Looking back I was also not eating nearly enough, most have been in at least a 1000 calorie deficit every day. Was eating large amounts of junk food and peanut butter.

Made it to Blythe, CA later that day.

Day 3

103 miles, 7:02, DOWNHILL BLESS UP

Still in more pain at this point, but accepted it for the most part. The smart thing to do would have been to stretch daily, but the comfortable thing to do was to collapse any moment I had. At this point, I was stopping every couple dozen miles to buy more junk food and refill my water.

Rode into Indio, CA which had a long descent into town. This was such a relief after 5+ hours at this point BUT, it came with a cost, the worst near-death experience of my life.

The descent began, and I kept picking up speed, hit 34mph at one point, and even with my shitty eyes, I could see a small but significant pile-up of sand in the shoulder up ahead, I tried to stay calm, slowly breaking to try to glide right through it but the breaks began burning out. Eventually hit the sand way faster than ideal and the back tire started fishtailing, adrenaline through the roof at this point. Slid around for what felt like 15 seconds, slid into the car lane for a second, luckily cars seemed to be looking out for me and there wasn't a close call at all, but DAMN, I felt like that was the end, this is how I was gonna go out

Stayed on the side of the road for a good 30 minutes, just in shock and also the joy that I was NOT dead.

Made into Indio, stayed in a motel, large quantities of cereal and fruit for dinner. The bed felt like a cloud.

Day 4

65 miles, 5:18, Uphill and windy

After a faster more downhill day, it only made sense to have a brutal uphill and headwind day.

Also didn’t mention I was on a single-speed bike, so no gears to make the uphills easier. In a way, however, no gears was great for two reasons. First: I never had to waste mental energy thinking of which gear is best, the only way forward was to pedal, up, down, up, down…. Second: It is much more difficult to have mechanical issues on a single speed, luckily never had any.

For most of the day, I was riding around 10mph which was ridiculous and tough on the knees.

All in all, the hands-down most difficult day, was constantly cursing out the wind as loud as I could.

Also didn’t mention I found out the annoying was that biking on the interstate is illegal in CA, so I got pulled over 3 times in total. Twice this day. They’d chew me out for being a dumbass, I’d get off the road, then hope back on 10 or so miles later. You may disagree, but in CA, the interstate was MUCH safer than the city roads. There was rarely a bike lane, cars didn’t give a shit about me, fell over 10 times when I wasn’t on the interstate. On the interstate there is a GENEROUS 8ft shoulder.

Made it to Redlands, CA, and stayed with a nice guy I found through CouchSurfing.com, who gave me his guest room. Got Chipotle with him, double-wrapped, double everything, chips, guac, multiple refills of sweet lemonade, great recovery day.

Day 5

74 miles, 5:23, last real day

Decided to not go all the way to the beach, just made it to the Airbnb. Was quite a bliss day, knowing it was the last full day. Didn’t realize how bad the restrictions were in California so I could only find 1 restaurant nearby to get food. A nice big burrito, and slept most of the day. I remember this day the least, just all the built-up pain paired with the end in sight made all memory impossible somehow.

To the Beach

Getting to the water was the final goal. Was somewhere around 10–15 miles to get there. Got to the beach, put my feet in the water, and collapsed.

All of this, from a simple hypothetical conversation late one night with the bros, lead to this, possibly the stupidest but also most mentally rewarding thing I have ever done, to date, nothing has compared other than potentially the R2R2R experiences later that year.

My parents made a trip out to LA to pick me up.

The lesson learned is, that you can ALWAYS do more than you think you are capable of or think you are ready for. Truth is, you’ll never be fully ready. I prepared for 2 days prior to the ride, one 18 miles ride, a 32 mile ride, a rest day, and then on the road.

Go do it, whatever it is, do it, maybe not something as dangerous, but the odds of you regretting trying is nearly 0%. Send it