Follow along as I recount my cross-country bike tour across America.
I had a crazy idea in January 2023. I wanted to ride a bicycle from my hometown in South Florida to California! It was only 3100 miles away, after all. So, I did what anyone would do and began scanning Facebook Marketplace for a bike. I settled for one that looked “rugged” enough for this monumental undertaking. It wasn’t. However, through many setbacks, thousands of dollars, and stubborn determination, I managed to dip my toes in the Pacific Ocean a few months later. Follow along as I tell the story of the time I rode my bicycle across the entire width of a continent!
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Day One, Attempt One…
It was January 17th, 2023. This day will always take up space in my frontal cortex as it marks two things:
1.) The day that I set off on the expedition I had been dreaming of; full of life while being so sure of myself.
and…
2.) The day that I quit. Forced to go home a broken and defeated man.
Everyone thinks you’re a little crazy when you tell them that you’re going to, well, do something crazy. Although no one openly stated that I wasn’t going to make it to San Diego, I imagine at least a few doubted that I would see it through to the end. I wasn’t blind to this. In fact, I sort of embraced it with an “against all odds” attitude. It was me against the world! And I was going to prove wrong all the nay-sayers! You can imagine the self-doubt that crept in after I had just gotten my fifth flat tire of the day.
It is clear by now that I had no idea what I was doing. I bought a used bike off of Facebook and assumed that since it retailed for $999 (I paid $650 and thought it was a steal!), it had to be built for abuse. Honestly, it was. However, being loaded down with 60 lbs of gear and ridden across gravel for 10 hours straight no longer counts as abuse. It’s something more akin to torture. At any rate, my tires kept going flat because they were not puncture-proof. My last spare went kaput near the end of my first day of riding, just a few miles from my planned campsite. I had to call a close friend of mine to come pick me up. It was a silent drive home.
The following day, I took my blasphemous rig to the bike shop not far from my home. The look of confusion on the salesman’s face was one that I was going to become well acquainted to over the next few months. “You’re going on that thing?” he asked. When I confirmed, he let out a small chuckle. “It’s really not the right bike for what you’re trying to do.” he continued. I knew he was right, but I was just so damn stubborn. He offered to build me a set of rims that were up to the task. I declined because it sounded expensive. Instead, I grabbed a thick set of 700 x 38c gravel tires from the wall and asked if they were good enough to get me halfway at least. He did the classic “I dunno” shrug. “Maybe.” he finally said. That was good enough for me!
They weren’t. They weren’t good enough…