RideTheLightning

A long time coming. From sea to shining sea.

touchdown. looking absolutely ridiculous.

A few imagined moments play on repeat when you’re riding your bike across the country. The beach moment played a lot. We would wade into the Atlantic Ocean, bike in tow, look out on beautiful white surf welcoming us to the other edge of the country and we would know that we had  actually finished what we set out for three months ago. It’s always perfectly sunny. Maybe Beach going bystanders are cheering, mothers are crying, young children extend their hands for high fives as we cruise past. You get the idea. Sunday afternoon was almost there.

We left Wellesly with only 15 tedious miles to ride on Rt 9. Traffic and potholes make us cranky and Rt 9 had plenty of both. After a couple stops in Dorchester for lunch supplies and the obligatory bottle of Champagne (for spraying everywhere in victory), we sort of just ended up by the beach. No fanfare, no screaming fans, just sort of there. So we parked in the grass for a bit, ate enough food to kill the grouchiness and had our celebration. There wasn’t any foaming surf either, but the sun was shining and the muddy beaches of South Boston seemed perfect anyway.

Back wheel in the Pacific. Front in the Atlantic. For all you heavy on symbolism...doneski.

It’s done. We made it. Didn’t learn from the hefty Oregon beach charade and subjected ourselves to the herniating experience of shouldering bikes across sand again. Worth it though. We spent the next 4 hours piled out in the grass napping and making some phone calls before riding back along the Charles to cousin Monte’s apartment in Cambridge.

We’ll spend the next week cruising around Boston doing to Dew then head our separate ways solo style for the ride home. 120 miles for Aidan. 220 for Sam. 215 for BJ. The last of the last. Clay, we missed you big time out there. We’ll get some more trip recap up in the coming days. . Thanks to everyone for coming along for the ride. We had a blast. Best bike trip across the country yet.

After about 20 minutes of self timers and failed tripoding, some nice soul took pity and took our picture.

Mmmm. Bike pushing through mud. BJ and Sam head West.

Another impressive pose. Self-timed photos lend themselves to powerful pictures.

Woooo! Brown bagging a bottle of the bubbly. Sampagne celebrating.