Cross Your Fingers

As I mentioned before, Ben said Kentucky was a horrible state (with wonderful people). I had hopes that Virginia would be better. It sure didn't start out that way! Although he did find a bike shop in Damascus, VA that replaced his crank for just $40 (he had figured it would be well over $100).

This is the guy hammering away and shouting as he replaced Ben's crank.

Then, because he was so close to Tennessee state line, he dipped down and took a great shot in 

                                                                            front of the sign. 

He told me later that he was cruising along, in the sunshine (after days and days of rain) and feeling great, loving his ride and the perfect day. Then, at the bottom of a curve, his frame broke, almost dumping him onto the pavement, but he saved himself from faceplanting (he said he hasn't hit the pavement once on this entire trip).

Broken frame, sideways view. Sad Day.

The little red balloon is Rural Retreat.

He tried to call me, but had no reception. He sent a text asking me to call when I could, but of course he  had no reception again when I got the message. He had to walk his bike 6 miles to get to a place called Rural Retreat with reception. We were both pretty bummed about the frame, assuming that his best and only hope was to find a bike shop and a new frame to transfer everything to. I don't know anything about welding, but his frame is aluminum and that is hard to weld (or maybe there just aren't many people who do it. I am not sure which it is.) We disconnected and he was going to go into the gas station to see if they could point him to anyone who could help him. Of course, this was on Sunday, so the gas station was the only thing open in town (not that Rural Retreat has much to offer besides the gas station).

While that is going on, and his phone is going dead, Ed and I are using the Internet to see what options he has. We have wonderful friends who looked up bike shops, eBay sales of frames, friends and family in the area and all sorts of great ways to support his ride. We spent most of Sunday figuring his frame was toast. It has seen a few miles after all, with two or three seasons of cyclo-cross, then four years in San Francisco and 4000 miles of the cross country trip. But we were sad for Ben, thinking that 300 miles from the Atlantic Ocean his frame had given out on him.

Fixed frame. Not pretty, but rideable!

Oh, ye of little faith (as my mom used to say). While we were worrying in Clovis, Ben had found a guy who had just opened a machine shop. Although he could not weld aluminum, he knew a guy who could. So they loaded up Ben's bike in his truck and drove and drove out into the boonies to see this guy, a grouchy miracle worker who fixed Ben's frame.

Ben spent the night in the machine shop with his new friend (who lives there as he tries to get started in his business), finding lots of common ground. He just really has met great people. I know I keep saying this, but it is important to hear. The country is FILLED with wonderful, generous, supportive people.

 In fact, so many people have been so kind to Ben, that he is almost on people overload. If you know Ben, you know how incredibly sociable he is, and I never would have thought he could "get tired of people." But he told me (before this last breakdown) that there were some nights when he declined an offer of a place to stay, choosing instead his tent in a quiet park, because he just needed some alone time to sketch and relax.

Virtually candlelight sketching

Of course, the last night he wanted alone time came after a long hot, sweaty day with a sore ankle. He had found a gas station that had air conditioning and chairs to sit in. He was relaxing, and getting ready to re-tape his ankle when an entire high school football team came crowding in, chasing him out into the heat. Ben has never had much tolerance for football jocks (to put it mildly!) and when they started to hassle him about his bike and spandex, he came pretty close to doing something dumb (i.e. starting a fight with the entire team) until they backed off after realizing he had ridden his bike from California. But he still resented them for taking his cool air.

So, he found a small city park with a cool playground and set up his tent. I suspect this was a better night than the last one he spent in Kentucky. It was behind a church (lots of churches out there welcome cyclists). They had a pit toilet, water and electricity for him to use. All was good, until he used the toilet and a spider came crawling up out of the pit and onto him. I asked what kind it was, and he said, "It was just a little brown guy, but where he was sure made him look like the biggest spider in the world right then!"

 But now he is crusiing along in Virginia, and all is right with the world. He spent last night in a small town outside of Roanoke.

"When it all works you can ride for ever; today I did 116 miles."