EMS to the Rescue!

Don't freak out, mom, I didn't get hurt. I'll explain the title of this post in a bit.

Monday morning my parents and I enjoyed breakfast with the crew at the New Iberia MDS site before my official sendoff. The Hesston Disaster Management students decided that I couldn't just saddle up and ride away. I needed to prove myself worthy of wearing the MDS logo on my back for the next 6 months. They set up a little "challenge course" for me. First, I had to put on a hard hat, climb over some scaffolding (not so easy in cycling shoes), run over to some boards on saw horses that I needed to run three screws into while wearing a dust mask, run to another set of boards on saw horses to pound in 4 large nails while wearing appropriate eye protection, then off to the trailer with my bicycle where I threw on the helmet and peddled out and through the finish line. All in all, not a bad way to start the trip. However, earlier in the morning my bicycle had fallen over. As I pulled away from the MDS site, I noticed that it wasn't shifting very nicely. I believe I bent the rear deraileur hanger. The only gear I could ride in without the chain jumping was to cross-chain so that the chain was on the smallest front cog and the smallest rear cog. I proceeded to ride single-speed for the next 150 miles to New Orleans.

Aside from the mechanical difficulties, the first day started off pretty well. My parents tracked me down a few miles after leaving the MDS site to give me my towel that I forgot at the site. The morning was a beautiful morning to ride with only a slight breeze and patchy cloud cover to keep it cool (or cooler than it would have been). Early in the afternoon it got a bit warmer. I stopped at a McDonald's in Thibodaux, LA, to use their wireless internet, and while I was online it said that the temperature was 91 degrees and it was raining. I had just been out there and it was sunny and hot. When I went back out, it was indeed still 91 degrees and raining. In Nebraska it cools off when it rains. Not here.

I wasn't in too much of a hurry because I thought I only had about 9 more miles until the place I was going to set up camp. When I rode those 9 miles, the park that I had seen in my GPS was not there. I kept riding. I stopped at a gas station to ask where a guy could set up a tent. They didn't know. I kept riding. I asked some guy on the side of the road. Nothing. Eventually I came across an ambulance that was just sitting in a parking lot beside the road. I pulled up to ask them where I should go. They said that the safest place they could think of was near one of the truck stops across the river. As we got to talking I mentioned Mennonite Disaster Service and the driver perked up a little. When I told them what I was doing for the next 6 months, he made a few phone calls and told me to ride down the road a few more miles and pull off at the fire station. They let me camp in their back yard, use their shower, do some laundry, and enjoy the air conditioning of the station for the evening. I set up camp, enjoyed the amenities of their station, and made some refried beans with rice for supper. I looked at my cycling computer to see how far I had ridden on my first day of the trip, and it came out to 100 miles exactly. I hadn't ridden a century, loaded or unloaded, since RAGBRAI last summer. Not at all how I wanted to start things off, but things didn't end up so bad, thanks to the guys at St. John Westside Volunteer Fire Department.

I laid down to sleep that night, belly full of refried beans and rice and thinking I was well enough hydrated for the coming day. Then at about 12:20am I was jolted awake by both of my groin muscles cramping up simultaneously. Seriously, I thought my leg was going to rip itself off, or at least make me very unhappy while trying. There was no position that proved helpful. All I could do was wait for it to go away on its own. I don't think I've ever experienced a pain that sharp for that long. Eventually I was able to slide myself out of my tent and hobble over to the water hose on the back side of the fire station. I think I drank 60 ounces of water. I felt incredibly water logged, but I was hoping to avoid a recurrence of the last 20 minutes. I went back to bed. 1:40am rolls around and I am once again jolted awake in one of the worst ways possible. I repeated the events of an hour earlier and went back to bed. This time, my slumber lasted til morning.

I wanted to get an earlier start, so I packed things up and hit the road as soon as I was ready. I intended to find some dining establishment that would serve me breakfast along the way. After a few miles on an empty stomach and no sign of a restaurant, I ate a cliff bar. After a few more miles and still no restaurant, I bought a bottle of gatorade, a small bottle of milk, and ate another cliff bar. That turned out to be enough to get me through the 51 mile day.

As I approached New Orleans, I needed to find a way across the river. My GPS kept telling me to take the Hwy 90 bridge. I peddled that direction, but soon realized that this bridge was very high (especially with only one gear to pedal in), very long, and very busy. When I got to the on-ramp, there was a sign posted saying no pedestrians or bicycles allowed on the bridge. The next bridge was quite a ways down river, and I didn't even know if I could ride across that one either. What's next? Hitch-hike. I sat at the intersection, and every time a truck of any kind would drive by, I'd try to hail them for a ride. Eventually one nice young man pulled over and let me throw my stuff in the back of his truck. Once across the bridge, the riding was just kind of stressful, with lots of stopping and going. Eventually, I arrived at the MDS site all in one piece. We called a bike shop to get my rear deraileur looked at so I will have my other 26 gears to choose from again. They said it would be done tomorrow sometime, so it looks like I'm taking an unexpected day off already. Not a bad place to be doing it. Thursday off to Mississippi!