Moncure, NC

In a small town called Moncure, I camped at a park next to a dam, and a river. Beautiful, free, relaxing. People were fishing there, but little traffic.

Apex, NC

Apex is a small, growing town just west of Raleigh on the Bicycle Route 1. I ate at a Mexican restaurant, explained global warming and the Climate Stewardship Act in Spanish to the management and workers, and three signed the petition.

Marcia Timmel's House, Host in Garner, NC

Friend of family, former St. Al's (Wash. DC) co-parishoner Marcia Timmel hosted me in this house south of Raleigh, amongst a trailer park including many latino migrant workers. Marcia is a seventh-grade teacher at the local middle school. She lives with her daughter, singer and theatre girl, Ariel.

Laurinburg, NC

I am now ALMOST in South Carolina in Laurinburg, NC.

Route from Mennonite House to North Carolina Border

Click on the link to the left to view my route from Steve and Anita's house to the border of NC and VA. I camped right north of the John Kerr Dam, and did the nature trail just south of the dam the next morning.

For my current route (I am just south of Raleigh), I will post my route soon. I will get the map tomorrow morning from the NC DOT before heading south.

The road to Raleigh

After parting with the praying mantis, I headed straight south and wound up camping at the John Kerr Reservoir near the NC border. Before I got there, I stopped at Pino's Italian Restaurant where the Italian chef made a cheese calzone for me for three dollars--a nice discount cuz I was riding so far to Brazil. I camped out that night--a first for the trip--woke at 6:45, packed, and set out at 7:45.

From 8am to 9am, I biked the Liberty Nature Trail on the south side of the reservoir, on the low side of the dam. It tested the "mountain" aptitude of my World Traveller. When I reached the water, so far below, the water was so still, it acted like a perfect mirror of the trees and sky on the other side of the river. I heard a nearly prehistoric screech of a raptor, and as I looked under a low tree limb I could see the reflection of the great white bird flying down river over the tree tops.

After I made it back to the road, I set out to make some miles. Upon crossing into NC, I stopped at a mom and pop gas station where I entered and said to the pop, "I am biking to Brazil to pass the Climate Stewardship Act." "You are biking where?" "To Brazil. I started in DC, I am here now, and I will head through Mexico and Central Americal to South America and Brazil." "And you are doing this for what?" "To pass a bill in the Senate dealing with global warming." "Oh. What's the Act?" "It's sponsored by John McCain and Joe Lieberman, The Climate Stewardship Act, and it would cap US greenhouse gas emissions in 2010 at 2000 levels and create a market to make the reductions as cost-effective and flexible as possible." "I know what he is talking about," said the lady behind the counter. "I'll sign the petition, and can I sign it for my son? He studies this in Middle School and he talks about it all the time." "Sure."

The mom pulled up the pump outside and I told her all about it. She was thrilled. She signed the petition, and then told the folks inside to get me something to eat. I had a bottle of orange juice and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Another lady pulled up in a Prius. I told her and a young black gentleman about what I am doing. Both very impressed, both signed.

I was on my way. By 1pm, I had logged 45 miles. I asked how much further to Raleigh. "Thirty five to forty miles." Oh, dear, I thought. This will be my longest day, but I started the earliest, so perhaps I'll make it.

After 55 miles and a long hill ahead of me, my legs were giving out. I sat down by the side of the road and rehydrated and refueled. Next stop with some cheap food I am going to rest a while, I told myself. I finally got back on my steed and pedaled up the hill.

God had placed a corner grocery store right there at the top of the hill for me, and I parked my bike and went inside. "I'm biking from DC to Brazil to pass the Climate Stewardship Act," I told the lady behind the counter. "You are doing what?" Her face dropped, and she looked intently. I explained what I was doing, and she said, "I'll sign this even though I didn't understand a word of what you just said. Is that okay?" "Well, you know it is for a good cause." She signed it and told her teenage employee that I was biking to Brazil and she should hear me explain why. The young lady was very impressed and signed the petition.

Many others came through the store that afternoon as I sat outside under the pavilion, resting. Nearly all of them signed the petition.

One bloke, they told me, was Mr. Greenpants. He could fix any machine on a farm. He loved to talk about what he did here and there. He said that morning he was trying to chase a fox or a coyote out of the chicken coup. Yes, a fox about ye tall, he said.

Two young black boys strolled up with their fishing poles. "You like fishing?" he asked them. "Yes'r," they replied. "You been to the big pond down that way?" he asked. "Not yet," they replied. "That pond has fish'll pull you right in the water. Those fish will pull you right in the water," he repeated. The boys listened.

Mr. Greenpants talked about a time when he was sitting watching the river. Up came a cat fish swiming up the river, fliping and flopping this way and that, making his way upstream. He said the catfish's mouth was so big it could fit your head right inside its mouth. Maybe only your shoulders would stop you from slipping all the way right down this catfish's mouth.

Greenpants asked me where I was heading. "Well, I going to Atlanta, then New Orleans and then Houston." A bright look of suprise came over his face. "Aw, you fixin to go south down there?" "Yes'r." "When I was down South there once the people asked me where I was from. I said, Raleigh, North Carolina. They said, 'Oh, you're from up NORTH!'" I thought I was in the South, so I got a good kick out of that.

Greenpants said the longest he ever drove was for 24 hours straight. He drove from Oklahoma, all the way back to Wake County, NC. All night he drove the mountains, and at 5am when the sun was startin to come up he had reached the other side of the mountains. When he got home, he just went to sleep.

Another guy at the stop, Mike--"people call me 'Sanchez'", was from Pennsylvania. He used to work in Alexandria, he said. He wanted to help in any way he could. He offered to take me the rest of the way to Raleigh, throwing my bike in the back of the truck. He offered to take me out to dinner. I told him he could help me by getting me internet access. "I'll be right back. I got female friend just up the road and I'll see if she's home. Good-looking, too, she is," he said as he nudge my knee with his newspaper.

She wasn't home. He signed my petition, and bought me a powerade, red bull and a banana (anything I wanted).

After resting up and bidding farewell to all those at the store, I was on my way. It was rush hour, and soon I had a dump truck behind me that couldn't pass since the other lane was full. Someone in the other lane shouted, "Get off the road!" It was a bike route, so I paid him little heed. Soon the traffic subsided and found harmony with me again.

I reached the outskirts of Raleigh and asked for directions to the address of Marcia Timmel, where I was to stay. Nobody knew because it was a small street in a suburb on the other side of town. I told the folks at the roadside antique shop what I was doing, and they found the address in a city map book, showed me where it was--30 miles South. I knew I would not make it there that night on bike as I already logged over 70 miles, it was getting dark, and I did not even know for sure if we had identified the correct location of the address.

I continued into town and ran across the REI of Raleigh. This is the chain at which I had purchased most of my gear, and it being a cooperative is a nice place to chat with the staff about outdoor adventures.

They welcomed me in, talked about the trip and even let me update my blog there. Once they closed, I was picked up by my Raleigh host, Marcia Timmel.

Hosts of Richmond

These are photos of Tera and Sanford Hostetter, parents of Luke, my brother Tommy's soccer teammate. I stayed with them at their house in Richmond on Tuesday night. Thank you Tera and Sanford--I had a wonderful time, and you were more than anyone could ask for!

PJ at entrance to Raleigh, NC suburb

The Praying Mantis

So Thursday afternoon, I pulled into the southern Virginia town of Victoria, and sat down in the shade on the benches outside a flower shop. As I was rehydrating and refueling, something fell out of the tree and landed on the patio near my bike. It looked like some leaves or twigs, but they were kind of shuffling around a bit. Upon closer observation as I bent down close to get a better view, I beheld a large, beautiful green female praying mantis tangled up with her smaller, scrawnier, brown male mate. They were not mating at this point--that happened earlier that day--now, they had decided that the male had done what he needed to do, and his only remaining value was to provide nutrition to the female as she matured her now fertilized eggs. So, as the male was still living, moving, breathing, and experiencing, his lover proceded to make a holy meal out of him.

I watched closely as I witnessed this event that I surmised to be a common sight, an integral part of the Southern folklore, a motif straight out of "Their Eyes Were Watching God" by Zora Neale Hurston. But I was not destined to be passive observer. Suddenly the female praying mantis, with her live meal ex-mate clutched in her toothed forearms, began turning around. When she was facing directly at me, she looked with her beady, green alien eyes right at me. We looked at each other for a couple intimate moments, but then she began walking right towards me, meal still in hand! What was her plan? Surely, she was not coming for me next!

She layed her hooked leg on by neon green bicycling shirt (I was lying on my belly, propped up by my elbows for intimate viewing experience), and began to climb. Where was she going? On top of my head? When she got to my shoulder, we had another eye-to-eye encounter, and I begged her not to choose me next. She finally settled on my back just below my shoulders, and soon resumed her meal. Now, though my view of things happening was all but lost (I did watch her reflection in the window for a while), the sound of her chomping through her mate's exoskeleton was now louder than ever.

I wanted to find out if this was a common sight here in the South, a part of the local folklore. So I began asking everyone I saw, "Have you ever seen a praying mantis eating her mate?" Most had not, but others said yes, others elaborated that black water spiders do the same thing. I then motioned to the praying mantis still on my back munching away. "Wow! It's going on right there!" they would say. "How did it get there?" And I would tell them the story. Some would say, "Cool!"; others, "Gross!" Some watched for a while. "Oh, his head just fell off, and it's still moving!" "She's eating him up!" After I got on my way, a nice man, very knowledgeable, observed the sight and commented about the black water spider's equal habit, and he asked about my trip. He was very interested and signed the petition, along with his wife, immediately. They offered me dinner and a couple bucks for the road. He also suggested a camping site at a sandy river bed near a waterfall. Well, I accepted the three dollars, but not the meal as I had just eaten, I thanked them and I was on my way.
Three boys walked up the road, and I showed them the praying mantis. It had finished its meal, as well. I told them she was my mascot. The were boggled at the immensity of my journey, and they signed the petition. By the time we parted, the praying mantis had crawled down my arm, and I let her climb onto a bright green maple tree. She will have a healthy brood, I reckon.

The Mennonite Family

So the guy pulling into his driveway that Wednesday night when I hadn't reached my campsite was Mennonite Steve Graber. He was more than happy to help me out, asked me more about my trip, and told me he had two kids, 5 and 6, and a wife, and had just built and moved into this house. He said he would put me up in his camper for the night, and asked me if I had eaten dinner. His wife Anita prepared some delicious leftovers and offered a warm shower. After shower and dinner, I iced my knees, and Steve and I looked at the map of Mexico for potential routes. He also showed me some footage he caught of some prancing bucks in his backyard--this was very rural Virginia, and his backyard consisted of a large clearing surrounded by forest and a pond. Steve works in construction, and Anita had to drop the kids off to school early in the morning, so both would be gone by the time I got up. So we said goodbye that night. I woke up to a cold bottle of powerade and a bowl of sausage gravy waiting for me outside the camper with a note: Hi P.J. Hope you slept well. There's plates and micro in camper if you want to heat this up. Have a Safe trip! + God Bless Steve + Anita Graber

Well, I wrote them a thank you note saying how much I appreciated them and that they strengthen my faith in the goodness of people and that they made me feel welcome in Virginia. I gave them the blog, so I hope they are following along (Steve or Anita, please post a comment if you are!)

Richmond to Burkeville

Leaving the beautiful James River riverside drives and elegant houses, I ventured West on Genito Road, (604), Bike Route 1 South. A two-lane road, as are most of the roads making up the bike route, Genito lead me across a reservoir and into rural central Virginia. While during these miles, I was primarily focused on getting used to the new handlebar arrangement, the scenery consisted of forest and fields, small houses and dogs sounding the alarm of a passerby riding something that looks like a rolling ox; I saw cows and horses, occasionally goats, once an alpaca, and another bison. I enjoy mooing at the cows, talking to the horses, baaing at the goats, and challenging the bison from the safety of the other side of the fence.

My goal was to reach Twin Lakes State Park that night to camp out, a 73-mile total ride for the day. By nightfall, I had reached 63 miles, and the driveway of a brand new countryside home. More to follow...

The adventure continues...

So, leaving Richmond, I stopped at a bicycle shop to look into the possibility of adding aerobars to the handlebars, so I could lean further forward, achieving greater power, comfort and aerodynamics. More often, I was leaning on my handlebars rather than pulling towards them; the latter gives more power and less strain on the back. I solved the problem by rotating my handle bars so they arc away from me rather than toward me. This gave me the needed distance from my body to pull rather than lean.

My average speed is now up to 12.1 mph, and average distance per day is at 60 miles. These two figures are steadily increasing: Yesterday, I did 78 miles to Raleigh, the most I have ever biked in my life in one day! The day before was 67 miles to Buggs Island, VA, the day before that was 63 to Burkeville, VA.

With the new handlebar grip, I have noticed my average speed increase from about 11.9 to up to 12.2--and that is average for the whole trip, so a significant increase. So far in my trip I have biked 360 miles, perhaps 3.6% of the distance to my destination!

Today is my rest day for the week--I have biked 6 days so far, so the seventh is a rest day. My legs need it. They are noticeably thicker and stronger. These first two weeks are really training weeks--I have never biked such long distances and never with any loads. The rhythm of the trip works out nicely with the first month and a half in the US giving me time to get stronger and work out any kinks with my methods and gear before I head into Mexico, where I probably will have a harder time finding gear, and will need to have a better command of my route, and focus on local goings-on.

Okay, lots to share...

So...I am now in Raleigh, NC! It has been a while since I had access to the internet (Richmond, two and a half days ago). Now I will take you through the last three days since I did not actually write about my stay in Richmond.

I stayed with Sanford and Tera Hostetter, the parents of one of my brother's soccer teammates at UMary Wash. Thank you so much to the Hostetters! I could not have asked for more--a hug at the door, a large spaghetti dinner with wine right as I walked in the door, a night of "find bicycle Route 1 from Richmond to North Carolina"--an exercise in which Sanford and Tera clearly succeeded--using Sanford's outdoorsman atlas, the Virgina Bicycling Federation (VBF) website, road maps, Google Earth, and Mapquest. Some people play scrabble for family night entertainment; the Hostetter's played "Map This Bike Route" that Tuesday night. I was offered a wonderful bed, internet access, a digital camera cord, a phone charger, a large breakfast, and snacks for the road. Moreover, the Hostetters are just wonderful people to be around.

From Richmond, the Hostetter's directions out of town were impeccable, leading directly to the VBF member-recommended route. For your info, Sanford, the Heugonot Bridge leading across the James River DOES ALLOW bicycles, and has a sidewalk for runners and bikers.

After crossing the Heugonot Bridge, I turned onto Riverside Drive--a gorgeous route along the James. The wonderful weather didn't hurt, either. It was almost a continuous riverside park on the right, and envious homes on the left--novel, unique architechture in obviously prime real estate. Made me think about whether I want to commit to saving up for such a home, or whether I would prefer to live a more simple lifestyle. My current projection points to the latter; however, just witnessing these homes is sort of a vicarious experience satisfying all its own.

More later...gotta go...

Ride to Richmond

Scenes from the Virginia countryside--old houses, new houses, scenes from a civil war battlefield.