Yo guys, how do I look in this onesie?

FUCKIN AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

um. new york. Now I'm just waiting out the rain. I'll be going back to philly on saturday morning, then down and down and down.

My time spent here has been a little strange. I felt so triumphant when I arrived, but nothing is really as I expected. I've been trying to take chances, but things havent really been going my way. My grand imagined new york fantasy really didnt manifest as expected, though it's still ok.

I've run into so many people I know. some folks from sf/poakland. one of the bartenders from now thats class. a nice boy I went to high school with.

I am entranced by manhattan downtown traffic. I'm not going to jizz all over you about "the perfect line" and how I feel "so at one with the road, man" but wow. It takes so much concentration to make it around that I feel a deep zen calm when zooming through lines of cabs and trying to predict the most aloof and inconsiderate pedestrians in the world.

I cant wrap my head around brooklyn streets. I dont have a map, and I spent 6 horrible hours looking for coney island the other day, which I never did find. Wandering aimlessly I enjoy, but being lost is not the same thing. brooklyn is not very big. It's pretty ridiculous that I could be lost for 6 hours. I only recognize about 10-15 streets, and many of them run oblique so they cant reliably be used as a reference of direction if I dont know in what order the streets intersect. I've had a lot of frustration just trying to get around. I dont know what I'm going to do today, but getting a map is pretty high on my list.

nothing else to report, really. Off to play in the rain.

After a harrowing ride through New Jersey, including accidentally getting on to the Pulaski Skyway, (a hellish two lane bridge with no shoulder and intersecting metal grates that stretched on for an eternity) I MADE IT TO FUCKING BROOKLYN!
I could go on about how much I hated riding through NJ, but instead I'll just say how happy I am to be here!

phillest illest

I am still in philidelphia. Yesterday someone tried to convince me to eat something called 'scrapple'. Today I will eat a cheesesteak.
I'm on my way to visit the Museum of Medical Oddities. ! ! !
I just wanted to tell you about more random cycles of luck. I lost my phone on sunday. I had been aimlessly around the city for hours. I dont even know what streets I was on. maybe all of them. I realized my phone wasnt in my back pocket. Fuck. I was panicked. I had just been thinking about how badly I needed to write down all of my numbers in case of an emergency. but of course I hadnt done it. fuck fuck fuck.
I went back to a house I had been staying at, and used a phone to call my phone over and over. It was raining outside, and I was pretty worried that the phone would get shorted out by the water and never be recovered. When someone finally answered it, it ended up being at a punk show, found by the super nice doorguy, who didnt even want a beer or a sandwich as a thank you for hangin on to it. I hadnt been to the venue that day. or ever. WHAT ARE THE FUCKING CHANCES?
I then wrote down all of my numbers. yes.
PRDCT

I know a place up in the air

Some more wafflings, while I have the time.



My first day of riding I was denied water. I pulled into a real estate agent's office. There was a man on a cellphone in the gravel parking lot. It was 95 degrees, I was sweating, I had just run out of water.

"um, excuse me sir? Do you work here?"

I remember him scoffing, but I couldnt exactly determine if it was because of something frustrating that was going on, his indignance about my presence, or because the idea that I implied that he 'worked' at that office when he very well may have 'owned' it was ridiculous.

Scoff "yes, I work here"

"Okay, um. Do you think I could please have some water from your tap?" holding out waterbottles, beseeching eyes.

"I cant let you in the building"

"well, that's okay, I dont need to go in. could you get some for me? I am really thirsty"

"No, I cant go inside. I work here, but I cant go inside" The thinnest of lies

"well, do you have a spigot outside? a hose?"

"no. look, go next door and ask them"

all the while, a magnificent fountain is splashing delicious looking water all over, making me crazy with thirst and exposing his 'no spigot' bullshit. but what can you do? I dusted him and his sad life and got water and a pep talk from some ladies at a salon.

I'm always jazzed when people offer me ice cubes, even though I dont take them, because I appreciate the consideration. It's not too great to drink super cold stuff on a super hot day, it can shock a system already under duress, plus my water bottles are 100 degrees after about two seconds anyway, but I like the attention.



I have more tattoos than you might remember. I did end up tattooing "C O W A B U N G A !" on my toe knuckles. Dana and I got matching dog jaw tattoos, and if you dont know about dog jaw, you should ask us. Nick gave me an arrow on the side of my calf and I got a CYDWY to match my YHBFT ankle mottos. It's not like I intend to turn my body into a doodlepad, but there is really much to be said for stick n pokes on the road, and I am travelling with some needles and ink, just in case.





I'm riding my blue medici. With great difficulty I installed a velo orange front rack on my super tight carbon fork. I had to saw the bolt twice, then the nut, then file it down and bang the arm with a hammer just to get milimeters of clearance with my 700x23 tire. I actually had to saw a nub off the rack, too, and anything that is not a box rubs against my tire, so I had to wrap a system of tube scraps on it to keep my sleeping bag away from my tire. It is a pretty poorly designed rack, in my opinion, but it portages my stuff, being two small panniers and a sleeping bag. (the first thing that rack actually carried was a mostly full space bag of franzia) the front panniers have patches sewn to them. on the drive side, an 'alive with pleasure!' suv burning printed by our own mr Joey Alone, and the other a 'he-man, masters of the universe' print that Evan gave me. on my rear rack I carry a thermarest, single person tent, and my empty squid bag. I have two giant rear panniers. I'll write you up a packing list later.



I found 20 bucks in an ATM yesterday. When I looked in the tray, the woman who had left it was halfway out the door. I could have chased her down and returned it. I immediately felt guilt after deciding not to. I didnt immediately put it in my wallet, or walk away from the atm. I finished my transaction, expecting her to come back at any moment, more than ready to hand it over. but she didnt.

I'm not sure why I felt guilt, or why I didnt return it in the first place. If it had been MY 20 bucks, I wouldnt expect anyone to return it, but I would certainly appreciate it. What makes me feel like I had the right to even consider keeping something that clearly was not mine? I dont need 20 bucks bad enough to be a shitty person. I'm relying so heavilly on the kindness of strangers these days. intricate networks of people I have totally never met open their homes to me, share their food with me, keep me company, consider me in all small ways and I couldnt be a good enough stranger to return this abstracted reciept? fuck man. I wished I had returned it, even as I used it to buy beer and cigarettes to share with my hosts.

but, as Shon said, "You cant PROVE that that lady didnt leave that there for you. You know, people are really friendly, and they like sharing and stuff"





I guess I really try to project this superficial appearance of unfuckwithableness. I posture a lot, I like watching my muscles flex and scowling a little bit. When I'm at a rest stop I think of myself as having a blinking sign above me that says, "dont even fucking look at me." This must be some sort of defense mechanism, though it doesnt give me any false sense of invulnerability, it is comforting a little. I'm not afraid of traveling alone. The question most frequent asked of me is, "Where you headed?" and after that "By yourself?!"

I've never even thought of traveling with anyone else. It literally never occured to me. That most people cant imagine being alone in a situation I cant imagine having company, well, I think it's really telling of my character in a lot of ways. Their surprise at my natural inclination does make me feel a little lonely, though, I guess.

I cant believe I never noticed before, but Britney Spears' "Toxic" is totally a love song to McDonald's.

"Baby, can't you see? I'm calling a guy like you Should wear a warning

It's dangerous, I'm fallin' There's no escape I can't wait, I need a hit Baby, give me it You're dangerous, I'm lovin' it

Too high, can't come down Losing my head Spinning 'round and 'round Do you feel me now? With a taste of your lips I'm on a ride You're toxic, I'm slipping under With a taste of poison paradise I'm addicted to you Don't you know that you're toxic? And I love what you do Don't you know that you're toxic? It's getting late To give you up I took a sip from my devil cup Slowly, it's taking over me"

clearly references to britney's unhealthy relationship to food, McD's in particular. She knows that it's a terrible substance, yet she just cannot resist this toxic food. Even the company motto. she's lovin it. it all makes sense now.

stay tuff.

-cari

In west philidelphia born n raised, on the playground is where I spent most of my days

I am in philidelphia. I got into town yesterday. I would like to give you a recap now, and as you are reading this blog, I think that's what you're looking for.

I last updated this blog the day before I left richmond.
Friday
Later that day I made fish burritos with John and Cath. John is the friendly barista from crossroads, and Cath is his super awesome roomate. Cath told me she had some friends in dc that I could crash with. great! I left the next afternoon, about 1pm, super excited.

Saturday
I took route 1. I rode 70 miles. Va is hella hilly. hill after hill. they just never stopped. hill after hill with a headwind. This is the first time I've toured on a double. I'm not gonna lie, I spent a lot of the day muttering "I wish I had a granny gear, wish I had a granny gear". I kept futilely flicking my shifter, hoping it had just stuck or caught and I could continue to shift down. But no.

I hate climbing hills. but I'm trying to trick myself into liking them. After I descend, the hill ahead looks so much less steep, and I'll say aloud, "Ha! That doesnt look so bad!" and then I'll wheeze to the top at 8 mph, have a victory cigarette, and do it all over. When I see a giant steep incline rising out of the distance, I try not to let myself feel anxious. I just get in the drops and look 5 feet in front of me, not even watching the summit inch closer. I say to myself, "you could climb this hill forever. You're doing awesome" and then I get to the top. have a victory cigarette. and descend. There have been many hills that I've taken breaks on. Just stopped 2 or 3 times and put my feet on the ground, standing over my bike, just letting the burning in my legs ease up. but I havent walked a single fucking one. fuck yeah! Victory cigarette!

In northern va I slept by the side of the road in this wooded area near this rollerskating rink. I could hear the bass of the music thumping, and I would try to guess what each song was. The last song of the night was definitely salt n' peppa's 'push it'.

Sunday
got into DC. called up Brendan, Cath's friend, and stayed over at his house, 'the corpse fortress'. friendly folks, and the most comfortable couch I think I've ever slept on. Victory cigarettes, beers, matress stabbing with swords, tuna spookin, scrabies. throwin rocks at shit.

Monday
Labor Day, I called this girl Julia. I'm gonna have to make a flow chart to get all these connections straight. I met Julia through Jen who lives at The Flying Brick in Richmond. I didnt end up staying with Julia, but I went to a Laborday BBQ with her. I made baked kale and sweet potato fries, played apples to apples, and had a good ole time. I met an awesome lady named Meg, who told me she had friends I could stay with in Baltimore. Hooray!

Tuesday
The next day in DC, I went to the National Natural history museum. Taxidermied animals, models of tectonic plates, dinosaurs. My favorite part was the giant tank they had full of water bugs, but that is just my style. I got lost in Rock Creek Park for a couple hours. I just kept climbing and descending and climbing and descending. I kept thinking that if I headed in one direction I'd be able to get out, but the roads were windey and half of them dead ended and then I ran out of water. ugh. Never actually made it to the National Cathedral, which was where I was trying to go.
Later that night, Garrett, this friend of Brendan's from the C.F. called me up and invited me to 'The Ruins" with a group of kids. I think The Ruins are the closest thing to The Landfill of the bay I've ever seen. Basically a bunch of trash rocks left over from the rebuilding of some old historic thing, dumped in the middle of this park and forgot about, and in the middle of the night punk kids go there and crawl all over them. good times.

Wednesday
I rode to baltimore on wednesday. good ole rt one. getting into the city from the south side, the road got super shitty with giant potholes. This truck behind me started honking for about a mile behind me, and I usually ignore honking vehicles cause they typically just want to be shitty, but after so long I looked behind me at a stoplight and the passenger of the truck was dangling my squid bag and sleeping pad out of the window. Apparently, I hadnt even noticed that on one of the giant fucking potholes all my shit had come unbungeed from my rear rack and spilled all over the road. This truck full of good samaritans stopped to pick it up for me. My bag, thermarest, lock- Fuck. my tent was missing. I wouldnt have even noticed that my stuff bounced off if that truck hadnt let me know. Thank you so much, anonymous truck!
I went back to find my tent, which wasnt torn, but the poles were crushed. (probably from being run over by a truck, but hey, I got it from REI. I'll just go get new poles)

I stayed with Meg's friend, Rachel, at this awesome warehouse space full of nice people and cats. I really want to hang out in baltimore on my way back down, but I set out for philly the next day

Thursday
I left baltimore at about 2pm after going to a cool bike shop and trying to diagnose a clicking sound. We couldnt get to the bottom of it, but since it still works just fine I'm gonna leave it alone. rode 65 miles. good ole rt one (still). I bought a knee brace, since my knee had just started to hurt and I wanted to prevent it from getting any worse. It feels okay so far.

As soon as I got to PA the road flattened out. I had been feeling pretty exhausted, making less than ten miles an hour, resting on almost every hill, going over this terrifying bridge with no shoulder, but as soon as I hit the expressway I felt like a million bucks. Like I could fucking ride forever. Of course, the sun went down 15 miles later and I slept behind a tree between the highway and an exit. I woke up to what felt like the pressure of an animal's footprint, and I whipped around real fast and started hissing like a cat, a sound that I figured all mammals could recognize as "get the fuck away from me!". but I didnt hear anything scurry off into the bushes, so I think it must have been my imagination.

Friday.
Woke at 7am and set off. Made it into philly at about 4, maybe 55 miles. I felt like a fucking champ. I was trying to make it into Philly by friday to meet up with Cath, and though I did make it in, we didnt meet up that night. My friend Ben, from cleveland, hooked me up with his rad friends Nico and Caroline. I actually had a bedroom to myself, which I passed out at about 11p in and slept till 10am.

Saturday (today!)
Made breakfast. updated blog. gonna go get on with my day.
My fucking saddle sores are out of control. I need to rest up in a serious way. "um, I cant leave town right now, cause my ass is busted up"
Bag balm. vaseline. relief!

BONUS

Wanna make a motherfucking fish burrito? They fucking rule. I'll learn ya: this makes about two hella huge fish burritos
1 can of tuna. SOLID or CHUNK none of that shredded shit
1 Avocado
1 tomato
1/2 onion
giant burrito tortillas
lemon juice
salt
pepper
garlic salt or chopped garlic
earth balance, butter, oil, or whatever
1 bag of spinach\
hot sauce (I like red hot)
<1 cup of rice, I usually make it a cup at a time, but you dont need that much
Optional:
cottage cheese
refried or whole beans
1. Put yer rice on! You do know how to cook rice, dontcha?
2. cook yer damn fish! Squeeze all the juice out of the can of tuna, sear it with some butter in a big pan. I like to burn it a little bit. throw some lemon juice, salt + peppa, garlic in there
when it's about half way cooked add yer bag of spiznach, and the onion (diced)
3. fry yer tortillas! Just throw some butter on a pan, & cook that thang a little bit! then flip!
tortillas cook fast, your rice and fish is probably still cooking. put your avo and tomato (sliced) on your burrito, salt and pepper, then yer hotsauce and beans and cottage cheese (I guess you could use sour cream, I just hate it)
It's all cooked! Put it together and eat it! Fish burritos are probably my favorite thing. and super cheap!

Dont stop me now

I'm havin such a good time, having a ball.

First of all, let me tell you. If you've never taken amtrak before and are trying to measure it against greyhound, or any bus system- stop. Amtrak is the fucking bomb. There's food, there's booze, the seats recline, you can take smoke breaks. the people are all totally fucking nuts and the sound and motion of the train is a soothing as a lullaby. my only complaint is the temperature inside one of those things is like 30 degrees. I was so cold I couldnt sleep. The really really nice hippy lady next to me covered me with one of her extra layers though, so all was well. I was able to bring my bike on the train for FIVE FUCKING DOLLARS because I packed it myself, in my own bag. It cost me $300 goddamn clams to fly with my bike, and the airlines fucked it all up. Amtrak was gentle with my bike, and nothing was tweaked when I unloaded it.
Okay.
So I got into richmond at about 11p on tuesday night, I assembled my bike in the parking lot and then wheeled it behind some bushes at the adjacent building and went to sleep. Pretty shitty, but whatever.
Next day, I woke up at about 8, rolled my way downtown. My initial goal, as always, was coffee. I found a cafe, Crossroads, ordered my customary 4 shots, got a sweet discount. Awesome.
Sat down, nice punk guy asks me about my trip, if I need a place to stay. I did. He wrote down his info in my notebook and told me about the anarchist library called the Flying Brick. Then he called the guy who owns it to let him know I'd be coming over, and told me if I need anything to let him know. Guys, Tim Barry is the nicest guy ever. (!)
I went to a bike shop to pick up some odds n ends, they let me store my stuff there while I ran 30 miles of errands. nice!
I got my stuff back, headed to the brick, secured a place to stay.
I went back to crossroads, befriended the discount-giving barista, went on an all ladies bike ride with a group of really nice gals.
For lunch the next day, Liz, a girl I met on the ride, fed me some chicken curry. We made cookies! Went back to the brick, delivered cookies, rode around aimlessly. Went over to Tim's house with Robert from the Brick, sat around a nice bonfire, then had a good night's rest.

I've had a really good time in Richmond. I'm starting to get back in the rhythm of this thought process. Today I'm going to try not to devote all of my time preparing for tomorrow. Tomorrow I'm leaving.

I'll be in D.C. by monday, very very most likely.