Pedaling across America in 66 days
Pedaling across America in 66 days
By DIEGO M. ORTIZ • SPECIAL TO THE DAILY RECORD • October 11, 2009
This summer, three friends and I traveled 3,500 miles — from Virginia to California — pedaling our bicycles for charity. That 66-day journey also gave us something: a lesson about the power of a dream.
We rode to raise money to help survivors of traumatic brain injuries and to raise awareness of Parkinson’s disease.
My friend William Darche, 23, of Morristown, and I had tossed around the idea of this trip two years ago. But it wasn’t until last November that we made a pact that “no matter what,” we’d start this trip on June 1, 2009.
In December, we recruited our friend Gary Conger, 23, of Summit.
By January, we’d created a bicycle club at the County College of Morris in Randolph, where we were finishing our associate’s degrees. At the weekly club meetings, we discussed and prepared for our adventure.
Choosing our charities was easy. Five years ago, just days after graduating from high school, Conger survived a traumatic brain injury that happened during a car accident. Riding to aid brain injury survivors was easy and personal. Raising awareness of Parkinson’s came from a shared interest in neuroscience and because one of Darche’s uncles has the disease.
In February, Jaraun Wright, 23, of Morristown, whom I’ve known for many years, heard about our plan and jumped on board.
Everything then quickly fell into place: In April, we discovered the nonprofit Community Foundation of New Jersey. With the help of Nancy Hamilton of the foundation, we created The Golden Interior Fund to accept donations. That same month, Conger, Darche and I bought bicycles — Surly Long Haul Truckers — designed for long-distance touring.
The first day I had the bike, I attempted to ride from my house in Morristown up Sussex Turnpike to Randolph, but the steep hill was too much for me.
“What are we getting ourselves into?” I thought.
None of us had any cycling experience except for riding our Huffys when we were younger. And even though we’d agreed to train, before leaving on the first day of June, our longest ride was 12 miles, from Morristown to Summit
We rode to raise money to help survivors of traumatic brain injuries and to raise awareness of Parkinson’s disease.
My friend William Darche, 23, of Morristown, and I had tossed around the idea of this trip two years ago. But it wasn’t until last November that we made a pact that “no matter what,” we’d start this trip on June 1, 2009.
In December, we recruited our friend Gary Conger, 23, of Summit.
By January, we’d created a bicycle club at the County College of Morris in Randolph, where we were finishing our associate’s degrees. At the weekly club meetings, we discussed and prepared for our adventure.
Choosing our charities was easy. Five years ago, just days after graduating from high school, Conger survived a traumatic brain injury that happened during a car accident. Riding to aid brain injury survivors was easy and personal. Raising awareness of Parkinson’s came from a shared interest in neuroscience and because one of Darche’s uncles has the disease.
In February, Jaraun Wright, 23, of Morristown, whom I’ve known for many years, heard about our plan and jumped on board.
Everything then quickly fell into place: In April, we discovered the nonprofit Community Foundation of New Jersey. With the help of Nancy Hamilton of the foundation, we created The Golden Interior Fund to accept donations. That same month, Conger, Darche and I bought bicycles — Surly Long Haul Truckers — designed for long-distance touring.
The first day I had the bike, I attempted to ride from my house in Morristown up Sussex Turnpike to Randolph, but the steep hill was too much for me.
“What are we getting ourselves into?” I thought.
None of us had any cycling experience except for riding our Huffys when we were younger. And even though we’d agreed to train, before leaving on the first day of June, our longest ride was 12 miles, from Morristown to Summit.
As of the end of May, we thought it would be just the three of us because Wright didn’t have a bicycle. But Marty’s Reliable Cycles in Morristown, where we had bought our Surlys, acquired a used touring bike. The shop tuned the Trek and sold it to him for $200.
The November pact was becoming a reality, and nothing was stopping us from hitting the road.
We’re all single, without children. We were fortunate to have our employers’ support. They gave us the summer off and promised to hold our jobs for us: Wright is a tattoo artist and musician. Darche, Conger and I are students and work part time — Conger at a gem shop, Darche doing shipping and deliveries at his family’s plumbing and heating equipment and supply business, and I am a waiter at an Italian restaurant.
Our parents at first were not happy with our plan because we were novice cyclists with no mechanical skills. But once they saw how much work we were doing to make this trip happen, they slowly stopped worrying and supported us.
My biggest concern was that I wouldn’t be able to attend Rutgers University in the fall because the trip cost nearly as much as tuition, $5,500. The bike cost $1,100, with an extra $500 for equipment, plus we estimated that at 70 cents per mile, we would spend $2,450 on the road, and we needed to set aside at least $300 to get home.
For a few days, I considered abandoning the trip. But I knew — we all knew — this was too important, a once-in-a-lifetime adventure, something we needed to do.
We left Morristown on May 31 in Darche’s father’s truck and drove to Yorktown, Va., where we started the trip. The following morning we loaded our bikes with full equipment for the first time — sleeping bags, tents and gear, with each bike weighing about 90 pounds — and rode inland from the ocean to the Virginia capital.
The first day we rode 85 miles. We proved we could do long distances. The next few days we averaged about 65 miles.
We documented the trip for friends, family and supporters on our Web site — www.charitybiketrip.com — as over the next two months, we earned an intimate relationship with the road.
We met dozens of people who took us into their homes as if we were family. We climbed mountains and crossed rivers.
The most challenging day was in Colorado, when we peddled up Monarch’s Pass and over the Continental Divide at more than 12,000 feet. We were hungry, dehydrated, tired, dirty and uncomfortable as 60-mph wind gusts stopped us every mile.
But we made it up the mountain — a great metaphor for any challenge in life.
On the way up, you curse and complain as you push to the top. Sometimes, you want to quit. Once at the top, you can see all around for miles and appreciate your accomplishment. The true reward is the descent: the euphoria, the rush felt while riding 55 mph downhill, feeling like you’re about to take flight.
The trip gave us so many stories, so many memories. We won the Silveo Conte award from the New Jersey Brain Injury Association for raising more than $5,000 through donations and spreading awareness about brain injuries.
We returned home on a Greyhound bus, the journey having taught us that in order to make dreams come true, you need to have a dream, dedication and desire.
After that, anything is possible.
HOW TO HELP
DONATE to the Golden Interior Fund
I think we started the same day as you guys in Yorktown! You guys took the Western Express? I’d be interested to hear how that went. We took the TransAm to Florence last time but the 2010 team will finish in San Fran. Advice, suggestions, ideas for that route?
thanks!
don