In March 2022, I set out on a bike ride with my adventure buddy, Casey, and we spent 53 days biking across the United States together. This was our very first bike tour (and overnight biking trip), and we definitely didn't train for it during our winters in New York (me) and Colorado (Casey). However, things worked out and we learned a lot along the way. You can start reading about the journey here.
Preparedness
Were we prepared? Mostly! My bike mechanic at home is very knowledgable and experienced with bike tours, and he gave me advice via a story: He and his girlfriend at the time were doing a long tour in New England to Maine. They were decked out in the best gear and clothes with the best bikes that had all the bells and whistles, but they had a rotten time and decided to end the trip short due to traffic. Not before ending their tour, they came across this traveler on a dumpy bike, regular non-biking clothes, and belongings strapped to his bike in disarray. He was having the time of his life on his biking trip. Some people think that you need the best gear to do an epic trip. I chose to bike across the country on a used aluminum $500 Fuji which is what I could afford. I was teased for not having a classic (read: more expensive and steel) touring bike, but guess what? Those Fuji wheels touched both oceans. Lesson 1: A positive attitude will get you further than anything you will buy at the store.
That said, Casey and I did have a lot of the gear that we would need: bike repair kits, panniers, proper clothing, tents, sleeping bags. A full list of what I brought can be found here. However, like in backpacking, the trail (now, road) teaches you. We started off wearing short sleeved shirts and shorts. As soon as we got to Phoenix, we bought long sleeved shirts to protect us from the sun which was much more bearable than wearing sun screen. We also bought puncture-proof tires after getting 11 flats in record time (5 in one day) because of the cacti thorns, wires, and glass in California and Arizona. We had dry lube for the west U.S. and wet lube for the east U.S. My 60 degree bag was not warm enough for New Mexico, so I swapped with a local for his 40 degree bag. This bag kept me warm most nights and was still a decent choice for many nights in the east in May. My tent that required a hiking pole to pitch was not a good idea: it needed to be staked into the ground, and often I couldn't do this. Some days we slept on pavement and compact earth, and Casey's free standing tent was the champ. Having a GPS Spot Tracker was a great choice so that all our family, friends, and loved ones could rest assured we were safe.
We met Molly and her dad who were biking the Southern Tier as well. She brought way more items than she needed and shipped stuff home 3 times. You don’t need items for every possible situation, and “less is more”. Check out her IG to see her trip as well! One of the best parts of bike touring is that you discover just how little you need.
Lesson 2: The road teaches you (so it's okay if you don't have it all figured out).
Being prepared isn't just with gear but also with coexisting with another human's wants, needs, and physical/mental limits. We were overall very optimistic and excited for the trip. We navigated the hard times together and were on the same page about how we wanted to travel (minimally and on a budget). We didn't care about getting dirty, not showering, sleeping on the ground, and getting rained on. We wanted to meet people, and we weren't rushing to finish (until the very end). Having a partner that you travel well with is essential, and listening to each other's concerns and aches/pains is necessary for making it through a physically taxing journey. Lesson 3: Bike with someone who shares the same style of travel as you.
People
We met such diverse people from California to Florida: hippies, cowboys, ranchers, nomads, immigrants, normal working class folks, republicans, democrats, firemen, pastors, other cyclists, etc., and I encourage everyone to meet some of these folks here. The overwhelming majority of people we encountered was curious and kind. Most wanted to ask us questions and a lot wanted to help us in some way. You gain a lot of perspective on how other people live their lives, and it's both fascinating and rewarding to learn. Plus, you connect with other people in the world, and that connection may last even after the trip is over!
Lesson 4: Talk to strangers as much as possible.
When you talk to people, naturally a lot will try to bond with you by warning you about ominous things ahead. They will put negative thoughts into your head about the steep hills, or the headwind, or the dangerous people, or the barren nothingness. Dozens (dozens!) of people told us to carry guns. Fact: Hills exist, headwinds happen, people don't care about a cyclist passing through, nothingness isn't a bad thing. Just accept the terrain and the weather as part of the journey, steer clear of suspicious areas and follow your gut, get a hotel/motel if there isn't a safe place to camp, and keep your wits about you. It isn't very difficult.
Lesson 5: Water off a duck's back; don't let the negativity get to your head.
But also, Lesson 6: Unless you're getting advice from a cyclist or cycling maps, take the public's recommended detours/alt routes with a massive grain of salt. People in cars don't know what it's like for cyclists. We almost damaged our bikes on an "amazing shorter detour" due to terrible road conditions.
Landscapes/Terrain
I knew that we were going through a lot of types of landscapes, but to see the landscape change before your eyes, even in the same day, is the coolest feeling. We biked through lush agricultural fields the same day we traveled through sand dunes. There were forested rolling hills, saguaros and dry earth, swamps, dense thicket, and vast yellow plains for grazing cattle. For one half of the trip, we slept under the brilliant stars without using our tents. For the other half, we needed to escape the mosquitoes and biting flies. The hardest parts of the trip were the climbs out of San Diego, one day crossing the Rockies in New Mexico, and the punchy steep hills west of Austin. There were new challenges with every new landscape, but they were all wonderful.
Lesson 7: Embrace the terrain, even the difficult ones; it's part of the journey.
Food
I really had expectations of eating healthy and producing as little plastic waste as I possibly could. The truth is that food insecurity exists and not just in the absence of food (i.e. no stores existing) but also in the absence of healthy food. In the west, there would be long stretches in California, Arizona, New Mexico, and west Texas with, at best, a run down convenience store that sold packaged food. Maybe there would be a gas station with a refrigerator section, but often they just sold drinks. It was hard to eat healthy and gain enough calories to keep biking, so we resorted to eating cookies, chips, candy, and canned beans. Tortillas and beans were a staple, as long as you could find cans with pull tabs that didn’t need a can opener. An extra challenge for Casey was also finding a variety of vegan food options, but she did pretty well with dehydrated potatoes, beans, tortillas, peanut butter & jelly, and fruit snacks. The meals weren’t glamorous, but it was a function of calorie intake through the desert. We had a pocket rocket to heat food, but it was easiest for me to cold soak ramen and oatmeal in a Talenti jar. When we found a grocery store, we would eat fresh fruit, vegetables, hummus, and other perishable food items that we couldn't get easily on the road. Towards the end of the trip, I would buy hot prepared food at gas stations (egg sandwiches mostly) which was a nice change from the packaged food.
Food is very literally fuel. Snacking regularly is more important than having dedicated meals, so having a bite regularly is essential to avoid bonking/hitting a wall. You need to intake a lot of calories, and getting fatigue from eating a particular food item is real.
Lesson 8: Snack often and have variety in your diet so that you keep wanting to eat.
Curve Balls
This may be one of the most important lessons that I've learned. Things happen: You find a magical place, your knee gets sore, you meet wonderful people, an event in the area is happening. Anything might cause you to delay your plans, and it's important to go with the flow and not be stuck to a strict schedule. Allow yourself to hang out with locals for just a little bit longer if you are having an amazing time. Stay an extra day to go to the festival you didn't know was happening (or, in our case, the farmer's market and Saturday morning music circle in the park). Take a break if you are feeling run down so that you can recover and keep going because morale and physical health are equally important. Hop in a car to drive off-route on a rest day to see beautiful places that you would have missed on the bike (we went to Big Bend!). Take a detour to go to the cool place that you "definitely can't miss" (Luckenbach, Texas was a couple miles off route but so worth it). I can't emphasize enough how incredible these events made our trip. These are the moments that I will remember forever, and these were the moments that I never planned or saw coming.
Lesson 9: Sometimes the best things that happen are the things you don't plan for. Be flexible.
To anyone interested in watching a more in-depth break down of the trip, our cycling buddy, Marshall, who we met on the journey put together a series of videos about the Southern Tier on his YouTube channel.
Happy tailwinds!
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