In mid-June I left my hometown of Bellingham, Washington bound for Israel via Boston and Amsterdam aboard a brand-new, custom-made recumbent. I chose a recumbent for my 7,000-mile self-contained journey because that type of two-wheeler is more comfortable than any other type of bicycle that I have ridden.
The first challenge of my trek was to ascend Rainy Pass at 4,855 feet, followed by Washington Pass at 5,477 feet in the Cascade Mountains. I had to push my loaded rig up the last hundred yards of both passes, but I zoomed down them like Snoopy on skis. I camped for two days in Winthrop where I recouped my energy and met some friendly local folks who welcomed me warmly to their charming town.
Cycling through the Rocky Mountains in Idaho and Montana was an unforgettable, thrilling experience. Despite some chilly and rainy days, the scenery was truly spectacular and the solitude was a welcome change from my busy life in the city. Sometimes I felt so uninhibited that I sang songs from my childhood such as "This Old Man" and "Ba Ba Black Sheep." Several times I even imitated Luciano Pavarotti singing "O Sole Mio" at the top of my voice. In time I lost track of what day of the week it was simply because it didn't matter. I was a free spirit in tune with Nature's rhythms rather than Humankind's clocks.
In Bonners Ferry, Montana I mailed home fourteen pounds of gear that I deemed absolutely essential before leaving home. I never again missed those extraneous items such as a transistor radio, an extra pair of cycling gloves, and a small backpack.
The fork shaft on my recumbent snapped in half as I pedaled into East Glacier, Montana. I stayed two nights in the local youth hostel, then put myself and my boxed bike on a train. Melodie Salter, the Amtrak station agent and an experienced bicycle tourist, was understanding and helpful in many ways. I rode the train 165 miles to Havre, the closest town to the east that had a bike shop. After a bicycle mechanic worked for five hours to repair my trusty steed, I continued my journey eastward.
Flat terrain, strong tailwinds, and a renewed spirit of energy helped me to sail across central Montana and North Dakota on my prairie schooner. Along the way, I also met many friendly, hard-working folks who took great interest in my recumbent and my journey. Some motorists waved as I pedaled along the highway, pedestrians gawked at me with their mouths wide open, and children raced me down Main Street as they shouted, "Hey! Cool bike!" and "Awesome!"
As I cycled past miles of corn fields in Minnesota, the temperature soared to over one hundred degrees nearly every day. In Cambridge the employees of a local medical center invited me to their annual picnic held in an air-conditioned building on the fairgrounds. I ate a sumptuous meal: a hot dog with the works, a hamburger, macaroni salad, potato salad, baked beans, four large M&M cookies, an ice cream bar, and three Diet Cokes. I thought I had died and gone to hog heaven.
The record-high temperatures continued as I cycled across Wisconsin, Michigan and Ohio. I read in a newspaper that more than 800 people died in that unrelenting heat. To maintain my daily average of 60-70 miles on cycling days, I drank plenty of liquids such as water, Gatorade, soft drinks, and chocolate milk. Occasionally, I took a half-hour nap in the afternoon under a shady tree along the highway. The winding, narrow roads of the Appalachian Mountains of Kentucky challenged my physical strength and emotional stamina. Finally, I decided to head northward through flatter terrain along the Ohio River and Lake Erie.
Biking in eastern New York State couldn't have been a more pleasant experience. The highways were fairly flat, the traffic was low, the temperature was pleasantly warm, and the countryside was beautiful. Along the way I stopped at several fruit stands to load up on fresh strawberries and luscious peaches and plums. I was in bicycle heaven!
As I cycled across central New York and Massachusetts I met many hospitable people through a peace organization called Servas International. My hosts and I did many different and interesting activities together. We attended a piano concert, we took walking tours, we picked tomatoes, we broke hallah bread on the Sabbath, and we went English country dancing.
In mid-September my recumbent and I flew from Boston to Amsterdam, Holland where the temperature was in the lower 50s, but the skies were fairly clear, the terrain was flat, and the countryside was gorgeous. When I told an elderly woman in Valkensburg that I thought her country was very beautiful, she remarked apologetically, "But Holland is such a small country." I replied, "Maybe so. But diamonds are also small, and they are very beautiful."
As I pedaled across Germany and Austria, I satisfied my hunger pains by indulging in the local fare: Bratwurst, Wienerschnitzel, Apfelstrudel -- all washed down by a variety of refreshing cold beers and fine white wines.
Occasionally, I overnighted in youth hostels, but I preferred to stay with Servas hosts who were from all walks of life: teachers, farmers, students, journalists, factory workers. Fortunately, I speak six European languages, so I had little difficulty communicating with my new friends.
Relatively speaking, cycling through Holland, Germany, Austria, and Hungary was a breeze. Romania was much rougher because the road surface was often replete with potholes, rocks, and gravel. On the other hand, I found the Romanians to be extremely hospitable people. Several times I found myself in isolated areas or in towns without accommodations. On those occasions, Romanian families, to whom I was a complete stranger, invited me into their humble homes, fed me, and gave me shelter without asking for anything in return. I was deeply touched by their attitude of caring and sharing despite the dismal state of the economy in their country.
As I crossed the Danube River into Bulgaria, a massive snowstorm prevented my further progress by bicycle. Winter had finally caught up with me and my recumbent. From Bulgaria I trained through Turkey to Istanbul, and then I flew to Tel Aviv, Israel. After spending a few days in that lovely city, I cycled to Tiberias on the Sea of Galilee to visit my friend David Liebson. David and I had met the summer before on the Adventure Cycling Association's North Star trip from Montana to Alaska. It was wonderful to see David again and a joy to cycle in warm weather.
After touring the Holy Land for several weeks, it was time to return home. Rather than paying an expensive cargo fee to ship my recumbent, I decided to donate it to the Nazareth hospital for use in their annual bicycle race.
The most interesting feature of my long bicycle journey was meeting hundreds of people who shared with me their friendship, their home, and their food. During the trip I also learned a great deal about my strengths, my weaknesses, and my limitations as a bicycle tourist as well as a human being. I look forward to my next cycling adventure with great enthusiasm!
C Copyright 1996 James M. Hendrickson All Rights Reserved
(Read Jim Hendrickson's newest book, CYCLING THE NORTH STAR, in which he describes his 3,200-mile self-contained bicycle expedition from MONTANA TO ALASKA sponsored by Adventure Cycling Association. 120 pages and 20 photographs. Send $15.00 U.S. check/money order to: JMH Productions, Box 30163, Bellingham, WA 98228-2163.)