Parting Words

It’s hard to believe that this wave of adventure we’ve been riding for more than the past two months has finally drawn to a close. After three thousand miles, tens of thousands of feet in mountains, brushing elbows with the grim reaper, and some of the most interesting strangers we’ve ever had the fortune (or misfortune) of knowing, we have finally completed the ludicrous event of riding our bicycles across the entire United States.

The end of the trip comes with an abruptness we had not anticipated. It seems strange to think that little more than 24 hours ago we were wincing at the pain of our saddle blisters as we rode down Santa Monica Boulevard, finishing the only segment of the trip that we can truthfully attest was downhill. We longed for the view of the ocean behind every turn and beyond every building, but it was only within the last quarter mile that the vast expanse of blue we had dreamt about slid into view.

We rode down the Santa Monica Pier as blind men. Our excitement had done all but destroy our sense of safety or prudence as we were taken over by the single minded determination to feel the cold water of the pacific ocean circle our weathered, tired legs. A small group of mutual friends and distant relatives waited on the pier, but they were barely recognized as we sped past them to a staircase ending in the pacific sand. The smell of the ocean and the light of the beach dominated our senses, and the only thought bouncing around our road-heat-wind-blasted brains was reaching a finish line we had been longing for, for what seemed like an eternity.

It is amusing to note that in our dreams we had pictured this scene slightly different than it actually happened. In our mind’s eye we ran down the beach with our bikes on our shoulders and triumphantly hurled our mobile prisons into the ocean with a satisfying veracity that only two months of hilly agony could inspire. However, like so many things on this trip, the beach proved to be much more formidable an opponent than we had anticipated. The sand seemed to clutch the soles of our shoes as we ran across its length, and the distance between the road and ocean appeared to grow with each tiring step. By the time we had reached the half way point we found ourselves feebly dragging our bikes with the last bits of strength that even our road conditioned legs could endure, and when we finally reached the waters edge it was all we could do to stand.

We stood there for what was probably a long while; waste deep in the water, our legs sinking into the sand as the surf rose dangerously close to destroying yet another phone which rested in Anthony’s pocket. For a time, it was impossible to comprehend the trip had so suddenly come to an end. Slowly the cheering voices of our family and friends penetrated the deafening silence this realization had brought, and we realized we were on camera. Anthony’s father asked us to say something profound, but regretfully no words came to us then. Zach and Anthony, two men vastly changed by the total of their experience managed a staple fist pound, our version of a handshake. Then the moment had passed, and for all intents and purposes this epic chapter of our lives was over.

As we sit here on an airplane, now traversing a distance that once took us so long to cross in a matter of 5 hours, we are forced to recognize that we are far different people than when we first began. Aside from changes in skin tone, facial hair, weight, and aversion to slightly-less-than-perfect hygiene, the experience has shaped our minds as well. And if any of you care to humor us one last time we have one final message we’d like to send…

Every life should contain a journey such as this. You can call it whatever you like. A pilgrimage, a great arch, and adventure or a trek. It can take any form you choose be it a bike trip, a novel, a mural, or a relationship. Whatever we may have thought at the start of this trip, it has always been about the overcoming of an untold array of seemingly insurmountable obstacles. Nothing, absolutely nothing in our lives has turned out exactly the way we planned it, and this was certainly no exception. We all have our mountains to cross, our sores to heal, our inhibitions to overcome, and our semis to survive, but in the end, these are the things that make the trip worth a damn in the first place. That you can look back over the course of your own personal exodus and know that you FINISHED despite all odds stacked against you gives you the strength to endure through all.

This is the mission of the ALS Association and the very spirit of Gordie Miller, to whom this adventure is dedicated. We are humbled and honored to have taken part in such an experience for a cause so praiseworthy. It was a glorious ride and we thank you for making it a reality.

There are plenty of problems we experienced all too well, but we can say with confidence that there was far less bad than good. This trip was made possible in no small part due to the support of those who stood by us, be they strangers or long time friends. To take the time to thank everyone who helped us is not something we could do here, for the strength lent throughout this trip came from the most unexpected, and even unknown of places. To every single one of you who has lent a helping hand we are eternally in your debt. We will cherish your kindness and generosity for the rest of our lives, as you have earned yourselves a monument in our memory. It is unlikely that our story will ever be told in full on the news, seen in a movie, or published in a novel, but know that this experience has changed the lives of far more than the two men who were privileged enough to see it through to fruition. Everyone who reads or hears about this is part of this entry and therefore is in some way part of this epic, and as such you share in the keepsake we will all treasure forever.

Thank you all for everything. We will cherish this for the whole of our lives and pray you all have the opportunity to do the same. Make sure you check our media page as there should be at least 100 new pictures and videos uploaded by the end of the week.

We hope to see you all soon.

-Team LOCO

BOO YA

We want to take a second to tell you all something real quick here, as we don’t have much time. We have finished the trip. At 11:00 AM this morning we arrived at the Santa Monica pier just outside of LA and triumphantly ran out bikes waist deep into the Pacific ocean. We’ll be posting all of the videos, pictures, and writing a celebratory blog as soon as we can but we wanted to keep you all in the loop.

We’ll talk to you soon!

-Anthony and Zach

Bring on the Highlight Reel

It seems we have a lot to discuss. Since we last checked in with you we have been wined and dined in Flagstaff, pushed through the massive crater that is Hoover dam, enjoyed the legendary hospitality of Rosanne and the staff of the Boulder Dam Hotel, went 15 rounds with the one and only Pops Hall, and finished it all up with a glorious steak dinner and warm smiles at the Pendletons. Lets discuss.

After far too long we traded the barren wastelands that made up the Indian reservations of northern Arizona for the beautiful hippie oasis that is Flagstaff. With our long hair, beards, and bikes it seemed we had been in preparing to arrive at this place as each and every local we met shared our love for a lifestyle slightly less mainstream. The preferred method of transportation was clearly by bike, the average hair length for both men and women seemed somewhere around the shoulder, and while the entire area around our hotel seemed bustling with business, no one appeared to be actually working, per se.

We first met up with Pittsburgh Willy (Randy Walters) and Johnny Beans (John Bratcher), along with their lovely wives Cyndee and Kim. We exchanged greetings and a few stories briefly before separating for the afternoon, and a few hours later said hello to Jessica Hall, Zach’s sister and our generous sponsor of hotel fees and drinks in Flagstaff. The three of us immediately made for the bar and Anthony sat back and enjoyed observing a few hours of conversation that had a rhythm and style uniquely Hall. After some catching up the three of us left the hotel whistle stop for a restaurant up the street where the three of us are confident that we enjoyed the worst burrito ever rolled, despite the fact that we got three different burritos. We suppose something must be sacrificed for the sake of the Flagstaff atmosphere, and that something is burrito quality control. A fair trade if we’ve ever made one.

The remainder of the evening moved around a couple locations but for the most part remained in the bar of the Monte Vista hotel. All of our drinks were sponsored by a combination of Hall, Walters, and Bratcher generosity. The jack and cokes flowed like wine as we traded goofy stories and sadly, the night was over before we knew it. Time flies while you’re havin fun, and in due turn the following morning’s hangover seemed to last forever.

When we finally parted ways with our wonderful Arizona hosts we were in Kingman, AZ. This was a solid 90 miles ride from Boulder City, NV. We made surprisingly good time with the exception of the final 10 miles, which crossed over Hoover Dam. It is a rarely noticed fact that Hoover dam is actually in what appears to be the remnants of the most massive meteor strike in the Earth’s history. Since having crossed over its limits, Team Loco has become an expert in this particular quality seeing as we were forced to ride both down, and up some of the steepest hills of the trip so far. The winding roads both leading to and coming from the massive concrete structure were some of the most fun, and most miserable we’ve enjoyed yet, so chalk up another victory for our weathered backsides as this one was well earned.

We spent the following two days in the warm embrace of the owners and staff of the Boulder Dam Hotel. The hospitality we received there was unlike any other hotel experience thus far. We had the privilege to become quite close with the staff. Rose, one of the owners in particular went up, down, inside and out of her way to make our stay as accommodating as possible. She even gave up an afternoon to cart us to and from a movie theater in Las Vegas to see Harry Potter, just so we wouldn’t have to bite the minimal Bus or cab fee ourselves. We’d like to say thank you from the bottom of our hearts for all of your efforts and generosity. We wish the Boulder Dam hotel and yourselves the absolute best in business and otherwise for years to come.

Now this next little installment requires no introduction as it involves the antics of a man well known to most of our readers. That man is John Hall, the one brave soul who made it his business to create a memory in the heart of the one town which could stand up to the soul of Team Loco. And create a memory he did. El Jeffe himself met up with us at 4:30 on Wednesday afternoon in the hotel lobby of New York, New York, where he had already purchased two luxury suites to house what he knew would become the remains of two members of team loco, pushed to the limits of their partying potential.

It would be a fair statement to say that four to five years of the most rigorous of party training in college were spent solely in preparation for this moment. John Hall made it his business to ensure that the three of them hit every single drinking establishment in the New York New York area, and also made it his business to ensure that, in the style of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the patrons of that establishment were never the same after we left. The consensus come morning was that we “Partied like rock stars.” for PARTY is we did. We’re happy to verify that the legendary ability of John Hall to have a roaring good time are 100% true, and we are forever in his debt for creating the clearest contender for the number one most enjoyable experience we’ve had on this entire trip. We know we’ve already said it, but thank you very much, and congrats on a job well done.

After parting was with big John we traded company for Mr. Pietromonaco and Anthony’s uncle Warren Davis, who have taken it upon themselves to be our support crew for the remainder of the trip. Mr. P has taken time out of his busy schedule to fly in from his house in Pittsburgh, and Warren has actually driven his very large truck all the way down from his home in Yakima, Washington. We’ve encountered generosity in many forms on this trip so far, but before now it has not taken one which is so appreciated as their decision to follow (for what at the time of this writing is the last one hundred and ninety five miles of the trip). Seriously guys, we are continually inspired by the good will of others and you two set the standard in a circle filled with the most amazing acts of kindness ever witnessed in our lives. To say we appreciate it doesn’t do it justice, but we do so more than you can know. Thank you for everything.

The three of us enjoyed a relaxing afternoon at the house of Brent and Sabra Pendleton, two long time friends of the Pietromonaco family and for good reason. The comforts we enjoyed within their walls included a fresh dose of laundry, much needed naps, access to their pool, their cars, their food, and last but certainly not least a huge, delicious steak dinner before giving us an enthusiastic send off on the Las Vegas strip. We are blessed with the best friends imaginable and look forward to our next visit. As soon as we get back into town a stop at the Pendleton home has become a necessary component of any trip to Las Vegas as their warm disposition and love of a good barbeque are easily the laid back karmatic counterpart of the craziness found on Las Vegas Blvd. Thanks for everything guys, we’ll see you soon.

Well, we think that about sums it up for now. We’re writing you this entry from a hotel room in Baker, a small town about 80 miles from where we started yesterday evening and are elated to report that puts us under 200 miles from the Santa Monica Pier, where we’ll be finishing the trip in just a few days. This trip has had its ups and downs but the good have far outweighed the bad and we can’t wait to see it through to its end. Also, we now have access to a new camera and will be uploading pictures and video in the very near future, so if nothing else we promise an entertaining video which may or may not be reminiscent of the infamous rocky 3 beach scene when we finally reach this trip’s conclusion. Guess you’ll just have to stay tuned to find out.

Peace out folks.

The Last Leg

We’d like to start this email by saying thank you to Emy Miller for paying for a luxurious suite at the quality inn in Tuba City, Arizona. This is by far the finest hotel we have stayed in thus far and we’re only depressed that we have to wake up tomorrow at 5:00 am and cant enjoy it further. We had forgotten what it was to have multiple rooms as for nearly two months now we have been sharing either the same tent or same hotel. Thanks so much for helping us out yet again.

Now lets back up a few days to Pagosa Springs, where we left you last. We should probably take a second to comment on the beauty of Colorado. The rich colors live up to its reputation without a doubt, the mountains were as majestic as we imagined, the cool streams mixed with the rich pastels and warm greens were the landscapes that inspire artists. We really couldn’t be happier to be rid of them.

While Colorado was everything one would wish for in a lively weekend mountain retreat, it was the most unforgiving state we have experienced. The fact that its truck driver’s skills leave something to be desired combined with the steep passes and frigid temperatures were a trial indeed. However, we are proud to say that we have braved the worst the state could possibly throw at us and despite what our parents may think, it is precisely the seemingly insurmountable peaks and semi truck injuries that have made this trip worth while. Without these obstacles to overcome, this trip would be rendered worthless, and we’re happy to say that they were worth the effort.

So then, SO LONG COLORADO, we’ll probably stop back to enjoy your slopes, but will likely enjoy the motorized gondola and car rides as much as the activities themselves. Once taking you on with the bike was plenty.

Since the end of Colorado we have passed into Arizona, where we have encountered heat unlike anything we’ve seen so far on the trip. This should not have come as any surprise to two western born babies, however hanging out in a state within the luxuries of air conditioned rooms and cars is quite different than braving the mid day sun astride a tiny black piece of metal laden with clothing, computers, and our burning backsides. Both of us have been forced to call it a day early twice now due to the very high temperatures that result after the sun reflects across the backtop of the road for a few hours. The highest temperatures we’ve encountered on the road so far have been near the 120 degree mark and even above. Our resulting game plan has shifted from mid day riding to starting in the wee hours of the morning. Desert sunrises are something we’d recommend all of you try out, but waking up everyday before 5:30 is probably a little excessive. Luckily we’ll only be doing it for a couple more weeks.

We’ll be in flagstaff the day after tomorrow for a few drinks and laughs with Zach’s sister and some key members of The LOCO Poker team. But before we skip over tomorrow lets take a moment to note that this July 12^th will be the fourth birthday in a row that Anthony has spent away from home. A characteristic bit of overindulgence will likely be in order at the bar, hopefully Zach’s family and friends are as nonjudgmental as he is. We’ll see.

After Flagstaff we’ll be in Boulder City for a quality donated night’s rest and even a massage. We’d like to thank the owners in advance for opening up their business to our cause. A break from the tent and the ground that we’re used to is the greatest gift we can receive and we feel privileged that you have elected to take two into your circle. Thank you very much, it is the generosity of people like you that has made this trip possible and we are truly truly grateful.

Very soon we’ll be in Vegas, and that will likely be quite the story to tell. Stay tuned, we’ll keep you posted.

Back in the Saddle.

We’re writing this blog two mountains and three hundred miles from the site of our accident. We’re happy to report that we’re in Pagosa Springs now, which is just beyond the continental divide. This means that for the first time of the trip so far, the grade will actually be working with us.

We left La Junta at noon five days ago. The first obstacle we had to overcome was a stretch of 72 miles of absolute nothing. The only evidence of human life between La Junta and Walsenburg, Colorado we encountered was a tall abandoned tower about half way, and a few miles later another abandoned double wide trailer. We camped outside the trailer that night only to discover it was littered with bullet holes after we had pitched our tent. We’ve gotten better sleeps on concrete slabs during the middle of the day than we got that night.

The next day we ran into two more obstacles before Walsenburg. The first of which was that we ran out of water. There were no gas stations or even homes between our campsite and town so we were forced to flag down a few kindly drivers and pilfer their water bottles. Sadly we still had another problem ahead of us.

After getting our bikes repaired in Colorado Springs, it seems that one of the sales reps decided it would be funny to sell us bicycle inter tubes that were far too small for our bikes. The result was whenever we tried to change a blown tire, upon inflating the tube it would last for about a half mile before popping again. Around noon we finally limped into Walsenburg, where we posted at a coffee shop and eventually found a man named Dave, who was on his way to Pueblo, where we knew there would be a bike shop where we could properly restock. This led to another episode of Anthony’s awkward situation corner.

Now, it appeared that Dave doesn’t get much opportunity for conversation, so we suppose he makes up for lost time by sharing his views on every subject that pops into his head with unsuspecting bicyclers when he picks them up in coffee shops. We were privileged enough to hear, in painstaking detail, what he thought about: the institution of marriage, gay rights, insurance companies, republicans, insurance companies, the female anatomy, insurance companies, his dog buddy, and oh yes, insurance companies.

Regretfully we won’t be able to recap much of these conversations online if we were able to keep them to a PG rating, but we’d like to leave you with an image we were stuck with for the better part of 4 hours. A man, who looked surprisingly like the mumbles from office space, driving his Subaru outback, with his wiener dog buddy resting on his shoulders, while he leaves us with a quote which will haunt us forever.

If you want to hear the quote, you’ll have to talk to us personally.

After getting our stuff straightened out we left for La Vida Pass, the first of two 10,000 foot passes. The scenery was fantastic and we’re happy to report that the Rockies’, unlike the Appalachians, are a slow gradual climb which is much more easily traversed than their eastern counterparts. The biggest hurdle was the thin air at 10,000 which made the climb quite a bit harder once you neared the summit.

We hit the second pass about 100 miles later. It was called Wolf Creek, and with the rain, wind, and low temperatures, it proved to be the most difficult physical challenge we have faced on the trip thus far. After 10 miles uphill, and about 3 hours however, we made it to the summit, and enjoyed a freezing 20 mile ride into Pagosa Springs.

Let us backtrack for a second to the day of our accident. While we were in a Laundromat, we had the pleasure of meeting Barbara Pivonka and James Miller. The have been keeping up with our travels and offered to buy us a hotel room when we needed it. We could think of no better opportunity to take them up on their offer than after crossing the continental divide. These two Good Samaritans got us a beautiful room at the Best Western in Pagosa Springs, where we enjoyed our first good meal in what seemed like a very long time, as well as a hot breakfast, and even a hot tub to soak in. We want to take a moment to thank them very much for their hospitality and fond wishes. We would hard pressed to encounter others as generous as they have been before the trip is over.

We plan to be in Flagstaff by Friday the 13^th, and will apparently be staying in a haunted hotel courtesy of Zach’s sister, Jessica. Your timing is impeccable, we’ll be looking forward to it. A few days later we’ll take in the bright lights of Vegas, and then finish up the trip in LA. Keep on readin and we’ll keep on ridin. Take care folks.