Day 81

Eighty one days down, none to go.

The first thing I heard this morning was “All These Things That I Have Done” by The Killers. It was our theme song for the whole summer. When I woke up I instantly started to belt it out, hugged Sarah, and started bawling. Kate hugged me when she got up and it quickly turned into another love fest. We didn’t move for a solid 15 minutes.

When I finally did get up there was another cuddle puddle going on in the hallway so I laid down next to Nate and then Brynne almost instantaneously joined in as well. We sang along with the music playing in the background as we cried ourselves awake.

Things moved in slow motion all morning. It was as if we thought we could avoid saying goodbye if we just refused to do anything. It was a valiant attempt, but in the end didn’t work.

We were provided with a pancake, sausage, egg, and fruit breakfast. All of us seemed more involved in the breakfast table conversation than normal as we reflected back on our journey across America. I enjoyed looking around and watching the interactions throughout our final morning meal. I saw how much things had changed and evolved over the past two months. People who you would never expect to be friends in the real world were family by the end. There were smile, tears, and laughter all throughout the room. That kind of joy is something completely unique to this experience.

Finally, we decided to get up from the tables so we could help clean. Many more people than usual grabbed tables and chairs to place them back in their closet. It seemed almost effortless to get it all done. Once it finally was complete though, it was time for our final route meeting. Sarah requested that on this last day we have Britt give the ceremonial route meeting call. So, she screamed, “ROUTE MEETING NOOOOOOOW” in her best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice. It’s pretty funny coming out of her tiny body.

We all circled up in the same order we were in on the very first day back in Charleston for our first count off. I had Jess to my left and Barrett to my right. As we stood there together we went through our normal routine, which included information about the route and town we were headed to that day. However, the leaders mixed things up a bit.

Stewart prepared a few words for this morning. He made us laugh and cry as we reflected back on the summer of a lifetime. He eloquently spoke about the moments we would rather forget and those we are likely to eternally replay in our minds. His mom, Chippy, watched over as this happened. It was an interesting contrast of worlds. That made what was to happen at the end of the day so much more real. Having family pop in and out over the past few days has begun a transitional process that certainly will help me cope with the all too sudden end of Bike and Build.

When Stewart was done speaking and we were all already dehydrated from crying, his mother thanked us for letting her join in on the morning. We almost got to hear her tell embarrassing stories about him from his childhood, but he cut her off before she could really get going. If only.

Boover then got us pumped up and ready to go as he led the last cheer. Even though we were all excited for the day we all remained sluggish. It wasn’t until 2 1/2 hours after wake up that the first group left. Elle and Stewart were assigned sweep so Maria, Dino, Kate, Nate, Lauren, Brandon, and I decided to ride with them on our final ride.

After herding people out of the parking lot we finally got on our own bikes and headed towards Santa Cruz. Stewart’s mom rode behind us until the first stop light we hit where she took pictures of us before she left us for the San Jose airport. We continued to ride all together, each of us refusing to leave anyone.

All of the sudden we heard someone shouting, “BIKE AND BUILD” from Peet’s Coffee and Tea. We all screeched to a stop, turned around, and went to get a caffeine pick me up. As much as I detest coffee, it was exactly what I needed to get me trough the day. After crying myself to sleep I was exhausted and was completely unsure of how I would make it to the beach.

While at the coffee shop we met lots of people who were curious about the 15 or so people standing in matching spandex. One man, who was a cyclist himself, told us about the ride ahead of us. We thanked him and got on our way. As we attempted to leave the parking lot a police officer stopped us and asked where we were riding. When we told him we were taking highway 9 up and over the mountain he told us to take extreme caution. Apparently, there had already been a bicycle accident on that particular road just a couple hours earlier.

We thanked him for letting us know, but that piece of information created a huge pit in my stomach. This whole summer we have remained relatively lucky and free of any truly devastating injuries or accidents. It was our last day. We had made it so far. What if this was our unlucky day? My nerves were on edge the whole rest of the day.

Solemnly we rode out of the parking lot and got on our way. Then, suddenly, the caffeine hit me. It was a total Kate move web I had to shake my legs to get the jitters out of them. I needed to move quickly and get my heart pumping, but I had no desire to leave my friends. So leg shaking it was.

A few miles down the road most everyone needed a bathroom break. By now we are in mostly inhabited areas where it is impossible to pee on the side of the road without being seen. So, in true bike and build fashion, very one wet behind the gas station we pulled into and relieved themselves on the side of the building while they attempted to cover the security camera. Afterwards Stew walked inside just to covertly make sure that the cashier wasn’t watching them on a monitor behind the register. Luckily, he hadn’t been.

We then got moving again. It wasn’t long after the gas station where we hit the rollers at the bottom of the mountain. Once we hit the real climbing we almost took a wrong turn, which would have taken us up an 11%+ grade hill that I had no desire to climb. We checked GPS and thankfully it said we needed to go back to the lower grade hill.

Once we determined the correct way to go we continued onward and upward. We had 2000 feet to climb before our mile 19 lunch stop. It sounds so insignificant compared to many other rides, but it was undoubtedly a difficult ride. We stopped about halfway up the mountain for a quick break and to let some of the groups ahead of us get some space.

Our rest spot was fairly public for a 2 lane mountain highway…so we used it as a bathroom break. Cyclists whizzed past us (no pun intended) as they raced towards the summit. We were definitely using the slow and steady mindset to get us there.

At about 2 miles from the summit we suddenly hit a traffic block. We couldn’t figure out what was going on until we turned the corner. There were ambulances and fire trucks working together to pull a motorcyclist out of the drop off wooded area. The second I saw that the sinking feeling returned. It brought me back to reality. What we were doing, what we did, it’s not always safe. There’s an inherent danger associated with riding your bike across the country. We just happened to be lucky. With only 38 miles or so left to go, I prayed that we would remain safe.

With a quarter mile left to the top I could hear screaming and shouting. I pinpointed whose voices belonged to whom. I knew they were all up there waiting for us. It was our final significant climb and we all did it together. As I turned the corner to reach the summit I saw the human tunnel they had formed for us, just like the one going up Independence Pass. It gave me chills thinking back on that perfect day. If I were to relive one ride for the entire trip…give me Twin Lakes to Aspen and I’d eternally be happy. That’d be my Groundhog Day if I had a choice.

Upon reaching the summit I looked at the coolers and couldn’t work up an appetite. It had been a long 81 days of semi-cold food. I just didn’t want it again. When I heard there was a hot dog stand I instantly jumped all over that. Protein, right? So Brandon, Stew, and I all went rogue and picked up lunch at the cart.

Again it felt like time was standing still. Nobody wanted to leave the top of the mountain. We just sat there until the first group to leave started to get antsy. It was already 1pm and we were supposed to all be in the beach at 2. We knew that absolutely was no happening, so we just did our best to herd everyone along.

Eventually, after we all had taken a quick 5 minute nap, my sweep group walked over to the Santa Cruz county line sign and took a few pictures before getting on the road. Once we finally got back on our bikes we instantly weren’t sure of which way to go. The cue sheet and the chalk didn’t match up, so we went with the chalk…sorry Sarah.

The chalk direction took us downhill, but not far enough…descents never last long enough. On the way down we also stopped when Jess had a flat tire. Luckily, She was already almost done changing it. However, when I saw her stopped she had a look on her face that didn’t seem quite right. It terrified me to be perfectly honest. I thought that vision I had in my head of something going horrifically wrong was actually coming true. Thankfully, I think that face she made was just from gas or something.

We got back on the road and finished the first descent at a four way stop. We were presented with the question of whether we should take highway 9, a shorter way that didn’t go through the redwoods, or highway 236, which went through the redwoods and was our prescribed route. Stewart, being sweep and a leader voiced his opinion about taking the route we were supposed to take, so we followed along.

We rode a few miles before catching up to our first group. What we didn’t realize was by taking 236 we would have lots of climbing still. Had weaken highway 9 we would have had almost nothing but descent. The only real downhill we had left going through the redwoods was terrifying. I am always the first one to bomb a hill and lay off the brakes as much as possible, but this was different. I could feel every hair on the back of my neck standing up, I heard every noise around me, and my eyes constantly darted all over the road searching for the tiniest thing that could cause an accident. I laid on my brakes, but it never seemed to be enough. I was easily going 25+ mph, but wanted to be going closer to 17-18. Every curve in the road was a blind turn and very rarely was there a single guard rail. I counted 4 times where I came around a turn and I nearly collided head on with a car. Had I been going a tiny bit faster I wouldn’t have been quite so lucky.

Once we got to the bottom of that hill we all regrouped by some massive redwood trees. The largest one there probably had a diameter as long as two of our bikes put together. They were massive, majestic, and awe inspiring. However, I could have gone without seeing them if it meant a less terrifying descent with less mileage that lacked anymore climbing.

We climbed more and more and finally found the highway 9 junction in a small town just outside the Santa Cruz city limits. By then it was nearly 5pm. Again we waited for the group ahead of us to keep moving. Once we finally got moving though, we made excellent time. My group has some very strong legs and decided it was time to get moving. So we did. We rode a steady hard pace until we reached our last real obstacle: Graham Hill Rd. It was an 11% climb that lasted around a mile.

As we approached it all things in the world seemed great…we all knew this climb was coming, but had either forgotten or thought we must have already done it. When we started climbing I felt like I was going to either fall to my side from not going fast enough or fall over backwards from the grade of the hill being too steep. Thankfully, we all stayed upright.

As soon as we crested that last hill, which we nicknamed Grace Graham hill after a girl that was supposed to ride with us, but ended up not coming, we made our final descent. It was the perfect way to come into Santa Cruz. When we neared the meeting spot I could again hear them cheering at the top of their lungs for us. The moment I saw Sarah’s face tears started to pour down my cheeks.

It was in that moment that I realized what we had done. In the words of Maria Chopivsky: “we pedaled for affordable housing y’all!” We became a crazy beautiful family that strangely enough survived mountains, wet road, semis, dogs, railroad tracks, and even each other to get from the Atlantic to the Pacific. We had three miles left on a bike path to make it to the ocean and we would do it all together.

The YOLO bus led the group and those who swept for the final day remained in back. We rode about 10 feet before Hannah got a flat. We yelled at her to keep going, so she did. Then, we took a wrong turn on the bike path. It took a few minutes to figure out which way to go, which gave Hannah some time to pump her tire. Then, as we got closer our nerves were even more on edge. We couldn’t figure out which way to go in one if the bridges, which held us up even longer. Finally, Sarah sped up to the front and took the lead. She too is to the beach, but not without any more mishaps. Some of us in the back got held up at a stop light, which made it difficult to stay grouped together. People wanted to charge ahead without realizing we were back behind them.

As we paraded through town we wanted to make it loud and clear that we were about to do something incredible. So, Kate shouted every ten seconds or so that we had BIKED here from Charleston, SC. And then I would tell “tell two friends.” People waved, cheered, and honked at us as if they knew exactly what was happening. It was an incredible feeling to see all these people we didn’t know excited for us. It was the perfect build up to the perfect ending.

We took a right turn and came down a small hill. It was then that we could finally see our families and friends. We rushed to the beach and out our bikes down, took off our helmets and shoes and lined up. I had Britt on one side f me and Dino on my other side. We all joined hands, got too excited, an took off sprinting down the beach. It was the longest I’ve run since I finished swimming and it was a dead sprint in the sand.

Just as I approached the water I saw Kate to my right so we grabbed hands and ran in together. The frigid water made no difference. I was happy to be there. I was happy to be cold and wet. I was happy to have my loved ones with me in the pacific. I was just happy. I looked around for the faces I had become so very close with. I hugged them hard. I wanted to let them know how much extra love I had for them I that moment. My heart exploded.

When the love fest died down we grouped together in the water…yes, even Kate stayed in the cold water. Then, all of the sudden we burst into song. The themes of our whole summer were Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream” and The killer’s “All These Things That I Have Done.” We couldn’t quite remember the beginning of either song so we did what we always did…we had Nate start us off. He was our official resident pop music expert. We followed his lead and sang as loudly as we possible could. We again made a huge spectacle of ourselves while on the beach.

After the songs were over we went to grab our bikes. It was time for the ceremonial front wheel dip. We all lined up and held our bikes out of the water until the count of 3. Everyone got their bikes wet all at once. It was a wonderful moment that I’ll never forget.

We continued to play in the water and take pictures for a few minutes before heading to the host site for showers. Of course on the ride there we all took wrong turns and couldn’t quite figure out where to go. Eventually, we found the Resource Center for Nonviolence, our home for the next two nights.

It was completely necessary to wash the day off of us before going back to the beach for dinner. So when we got to the host site we all headed outside for the hose. Eventually, we figured out the most efficient way to get things done was to basically line up like a firing squad and have Stewart spray every one down. The freezing cold water was plenty of motivation to get done quickly, not to mention we were all starving and wanted to get back to the beach ASAP.

As soon as the first 15 of us were dressed and ready to go we ran the first shuttle. I however got into Hannah’s dad’s car and rode over with her, Andrew, and Jesse. When we arrived there were two campfires and a grill ready to help keep us warm along with a smorgasbord of food and drinks.

We hung out one last time as a complete family there on Twin Lakes Beach. It felt so appropriate being there seeing as so many of us look back so fondly on Twin Lakes, CO. We watched the sun set over the mountains and stargazed in a completely light pollution free sky that night all together. The memories of that night flooded my mind while standing on the Pacific beach. I caught myself just people watching. The past 81 days changed us all. We went from strangers standing in the Atlantic to knowing every in and out about one another. Our biggest fight had involved avocados. It was silly and harmless. We loved each other, we knew how to deal with one another. We are a functionally dysfunctional family.

When the night came to a close we all gathered round a fire pit. A SC2SC alumni told us one of her biggest regrets was that at the end of their last night together they all dispersed without one final goodbye. We decided that couldn’t happen to us. The last time we were all together we said a collective goodbye.

We went around the circle talking about the things we would miss, what we learned from this experience, and what we hoped others took away from Bike and Build. The one that struck me deepest was Laurie’s goodbye. She started by saying “I watched you”, which was something someone wrote as a war fuzzy the first week and became a running joke. She told us we might know her as well as she knows us, but she watched us. She watched interact and become a family. It was a beautiful little speech. One I truly appreciated.

As I stood there I was floored by everything everyone had to say. My heart was broken standing there. I fell in love this summer. I realized that fact states before, but when that happened I didn’t want to think about saying goodbye. My heart grew to accommodate enough love for 29 new people. When we let go of that circle we gathered in close, held a bunch of balloons together and let them go all together. In that moment my heart shattered.

We cleaned up, hugged one another all over again, and headed towards the van. It was time for our first real goodbye when Claire got into the van. She was the first to leave us. Tears streamed down her face as she went around making sure to hug everyone. My mind couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening. Our family was then incomplete and probably never would be all together ever again.

Those of us who stayed back to wait for the second shuttle stood there freezing while reminiscing. We eventually got a ride back to the host and immediately set up the projector for a slide show. Personally, I laid down. Nate then came up and snuggled with me as we fell asleep.

It was absolutely a life changing experience. I learned more about myself than I ever thought possible. I had found myself on Bike and Build. This was my calling. When I was younger I always thought of service hours as a hassle. What I don’t realize was how truly enriching those moments spent working for others are. There will never be anything that could possibly compare to this summer. Even if I were to do it all over again, it would be an entirely different experience. My life was a good one, but this summer made it great.

Thank you to everyone who had a part in helping me to get where I am, whether you were a training partner, a donor, a friend, family member, or a teammate, I couldn’t have done it without a single one of you.