No Turning Back

The decision has been made and now there is no backing out.

I have purchased the touring bike, a really sweet 51cm Trek 520 in the bronze for
2012 coloring. They even let me do parts of the build (albeit with someone standing
over my shoulder the whole time as it should be) so that I could become intimately
intertwined with my bike. Which, by the way I have named "T". (I name all my bikes it
makes them happy and lets them know they are part of a family.)

I have purchased the Arkel bags (yep zippers and pockets) in 'yield to me yellow'
for the back and 'STOP don't aim for me for red' for the front. I have added shoes and
XTR pedals, popped out the headset and added a Chris King and the boys at the shop
are debating what snazzy color to rewrap my handlebars in. Hell, I even bought a
Garmin so that I wouldn't get lost... okay well that is really not going to help me much in
the getting lost, verses not getting lost category, but at least when I get lost I will know I
am lost. And sometimes lost is a good place to be, sometimes not so much.

I have even taken "T" for her inaugural ride. It was about eighteen miles. A far cry
from what I will be doing daily soon, but for an idea of how much I weigh completely
loaded with bags (and nothing else), it was a good eye opener for me. I liked the way
she handled. We had a few moments of "No, you will do what I want, not what you want."
and I understand there will be several more of those, but for the most part we seem to
understand each other. I have promised her things like good chain lube and wipe downs
on request and she responds well to those promises.

Now, it is that moment when I realize I have less than two months before my first
journey commences. I keep adding things to my packing list as I go: Petzl light (with red
filter) for viewing and Marmot full zip rain pants for easy on and off, tent and stove. Still
need a sleeping bag and some pots, but I have a kick-ass titanium spork.

I have been told what I can't bring and I am still working on what I can.

I am deeply nervous even when I tell everyone it is a grand adventure (which it
is). I am nervous--like deep down don't screw this up nervous.

It isn't like writing which comes and goes ,but if I sit down just works its way out of
my head onto my paper (or keyboard). No, this is my strength of will against something
most people don't do. I can't even begin to tell you how many people have asked if I
(and my partners) were crazy, or why are we doing this? I even had someone ask me
what I was trying to prove. I don't know that I am trying to "prove" anything. Then again,
maybe I am. There is no one on the road but me at the beginning and end of the day,
and no matter that I have partners to talk to and encourage me, as I will do for them, I
still have to pedal my way to the stopping point every day. It's a long way from being arm
candy and, there are those really scared moments inside my head where I wonder if I
should be arm candy again. It is so much easier to be "pretty" than it is to be strong, but
it is a miserable experience to be pretty and this is, if nothing else, exciting. I am sure
there will be many times I will be miserable, but it will be a misery I choose and there is
freedom in that.

Training for all of us is a lot of riding our bikes. There are already injuries to deal
with, and in some ways you have to take those into account, and in some ways you just
push on through. I am definitely a pusher with a will of stubborn steel, and I hope that
stands me in good stead. There will be plenty of updates on my progress and that of my
friends, but here it is, no turning back...

Bags Bags Bags

Ortlieb, Arkel, Jandd, Prada, Gucci… oh wait, never mind those last two. That was another lifetime. Now that I am no longer arm candy I find myself with a completely different set of concerns.


It’s not how many bags, how many outfits and matching shoes, oh nooo, I have reached the completely opposite spectrum in this world. It is now how little can I pack. There are no porters where I am going… well I guess I am my own porter. Or as my significant other says, The Sherpa!

Sue me; I have a small fascination with bags; big bags, little bags. Ones that I can stick other bags in and how many I can fit into my purse (which some consider to be worse than Hermione’s purse in "The Deadly Hollows") Hell I am even fascinated with having plastic Ziploc’s in my bags in case I need another bag inside of my bag to segregate out my things. You know how some people don’t like their food to touch on their plate? Yeah well that’s not my problem it all gets mixed in my stomach. No, my problem is that I don’t like my stuff to touch. Clean clothes shouldn’t touch dirty clothes, shoes should never touch clothes and jewelry belongs in its own separate compartment. Makeup has to be segregated into little bags so that eye makeup doesn’t touch cheek makeup. You probably all get the picture by now so I’ll stop.

A couple of upcoming problems for me… first off, I don’t really mind having less clothes, or shoes. Yes I can go without changing my outfit. I am not that persnickety about that. I don’t even need matching shoes…well sort of, I am at least working on that problem. I mean how do you wear brown shoes with a black belt, or vice versa. The answer to that is to not wear a belt. Not a problem in bike clothes as most lycra shorts do not support belt loops The question is how do I separate all my things so that at the end of a long day of pedaling, or the beginning of a long day of pedaling I don’t have a complete OCD attack.

I LIKE to know where all my things are, not like as in the way you feel about the Muppets No, LIKE as in my whole world is off kilter if I don’t know where something is.

So what to do?

I have been examining the touring bike pannier systems as best as I can. I want to be sure because panniers are not cheap, no matter which brand you buy and each one has different things to offer.

Ortlieb’s are waterproof and they are extremely easy to get on and off your racks, but only have one or two compartments depending on the bag.

Read: a big empty hole to be sure. If you have read everything I have written preceding this statement you can feel my hyperventilating panic reverberating in the air around you.

One bag? With no dividers? Breath, breath, zen, zen, zen…

Okay, calmer now.

Jandd seems to have the same top-load big bag theory with optional pockets to attach to the sides and optional shoulder straps plus optional waterproof covers. They seem to have figured it out as far as attaching the bags to themselves and making it easy for you to carry them, either over the shoulder or by their handles. This would make moving them on and off your bike for plane, train or bus travel easier. Except, I feel that quick breathing sneaking back in. I personally have a hard time with the lost in space theory (My purse is organized lost in space chaos, that means I know where everything is and when something is missing)

I know that means that I probably am going to be buying Arkel bags. First of all they have as many compartments as my last luggage set. And they don’t actually top load, which means I could be kneeling in the dirtiest campsite in the history of oh-gods-how-gross campsites and still pretend I am at the Ritz (It’s called projecting your own reality)

I like that there are tons of zippers, so I could segregate almost to my hearts delight. They do require an optional waterproofing system, and I hear that they are not as easy to get on and off bike racks, but with practice all becomes easy…so they say. The travel from bike to train, plane, or yak options are not as apparent to me but I do have a couple of good resources that seem to have perfected that technique so I will phone a friend when necessary.

It looks like right now at this very moment that I will be looking very closely at getting Arkel’s, but I reserve the right to change my mind at any given time, at least until I give a company my credit card number.

© 2012 Nichole Warren

Maryland is Flat

So far, there are two things I have learned after living in Maryland for almost eight months... Maryland is not flat (I hate those lying travel brochures) and I am not sure what a typical winter is, but this is not winter. In fact, rounding the end of January it is not supposed to be a balmy 58 degrees with rain all day. Are you sure this is the state that had the snowpocolypse a couple of years ago?

When I prepared to move here, I had visions about how great the riding would be. I was, in fact, coming from a very mountainous state (you know the real ones; they stand over 4000 vertical feet. We even have fourteeners out there.) So, in my sugarplum, dancing fairytales, I imagined that my rides would be smooth, flowing singletrack. The obstacles would be entertaining and fun like a pure downhill course. Nowhere in my imagination did I have to worry about how you got up in order to go down. That's why they call it a fairytale.

I have come to realize, with a lot of pain and bruising (Thanks mountain bike), pulled muscles, and screaming quadriceps (Thanks road bike) that Maryland knows no definition of flat. Nor can I seem to find any magical fairies to take me to the top of the slope so that all I have to do is go down. My riding mates have heard me exclaim many times over about the horridness of climbing and, even though I am getting better and quicker (this is definitely a do-or-die crew), I have come to a third realization... I am a girl!

Damn! When did that happen?

Oh, being a girl for the sake of being a girl has always been fun, but I considered myself to be pretty tough too. You know, mud and mascara! Now, when I ride with my new mates, I find myself lagging so sadly behind that it’s a wonder that they ride with me at all. I would like to blame this on the lack of general flatness in Maryland, or the fact that I ride with a group that, for the most part, is ten plus years younger than me, or has been biking for ten plus years longer than me, but it boils down to this, and this is good so listen up...

I am not nearly in as good of shape as I once thought I was; and I have girl legs. What are girl legs? Well, mine are pretty shapely (if I do say so myself), but what they aren’t are boy legs. That means that no matter how many times I swear a blue streak going up a hill (And I swear a lot, though if it were flatter in Maryland I could swear a lot less), those boy legs, young and old, will beat me every time.
This was a realization that took some tears to come to...lots and lots of tears mixed in with creative phrases that would drain the color from a blue whale. (What? You didn't know that's what happens when you swear too much? Yep, it's true baby blue whales loose all their pigmentation, then they get sunburned when they go up for air…but I digress)

I cannot ever change my girl legs, but I can get in better shape. Like I said, this is a do-or-die group. Now, they are the most supportive, caring, soft and cuddly do-or-die group, but their expectations are high and I hate to disappoint. So, every time I get on the bike, I try harder and push myself further and maybe a little faster. Is this a good thing to be doing at my (we'll call it mini-mid life) age? (Yeah, that means not midlife just heading up that hill.) All I can say to that is hell-yeah!

This dilemma is what brings me to the point of starting this writing endeavor. It isn’t really so much, that Maryland is flat. No, what it really is...(I hear a faint drum roll being played by the Maryland stinkbugs) is that I decided that maybe I should take this a step further and write about my endeavors towards touring on a bicycle. So, what all does this entail?

I am really not so sure. And, in fact, the whole idea gives me moments of fluttery panic, in which in my new baby-blue whale conscious ways I try not to swear and instead take ten deep breaths and try to Zen!!!!!!

Hmm… still panicking. Maybe I will have to work on Zenning with less force. The reality is that I have no idea what this will involve, but I plan to keep myself and those around me as entertained as possible with my endeavors as I figure it out.

I know one thing for sure... I will be closely checking the weather and not believing a single travel brochure before I embark.


© 2012 Nichole Warren