Will On A Bike

One man rides his bike across the United States and lives to tell about it.

Friday, August 19

The Bicycle Diaries

Seriously, it's really nice to hear from you guys in the comments. All the encouragement/funny blurbs are nice to read. I'll probably be able to update weekly, so here's a fun statistic to start off this week's update:

Number of times I've bawled my eyes out while riding: 2

The Oregon Roadkill Count (ORC) hit 103 the other day. To celebrate, I lit a candle, ran it over and threw a beer can at it.

I see an incredible amount of roadkill as you can probably imagine. Every day I am treated to a freakshow on the side of the road greeting me as I ride by:

Mangled deer: "Good luck, Will!"
Me: "Thanks."

I entertained the idea that maybe the staggering amount of roadkill was not murder, but suicide. But after seeing a disturbing number of animals right on the yellow line, though, I got the sense that was not the case.

Sometimes, I see some very strange roadkill. Like the other day when I saw a lizard and a raccoon killed side by side in the middle of the road. Something about them looked very peaceful-- almost as if they had been holding hands. Grisly, but peaceful.

Another time, I rode by a deer lying in a ditch that had bulging eyes and its tongue screwed up outside of its mouth. I looked over at a driveway and saw a guy with the exact same expression on his face. I didn't quite know what to make of that.

But the roadkill is seriously everywhere. And you know, with all this good fur and viscera lying on the side of the road gathering dust, I wonder to myself why they don't do something with it. I mean, there are miles and miles worth of intestines between all those furry creatures, just festoon them over the highway, or tie a knot that would let the bodies hang like Christmas decorations. Spell things with them: "Welcome to Fuckville" in skunks, snakes and turtles. Make some cheap costumes for the county fair. Just imagine all those happy tree creatures strapped to the miles of fence post greeting you as you roll into town.

They'd also make for great practical jokes:
"Hey Jeff Takai (a former housemate of mine), I made you some pancakes."
"Thanks Will! These are delicious. And I thought you hated me."
"I do."

Seriously! The possibilities are endless.

But I digress. One particular day, things were really bad. It seemed as though someone had gone over the highway with a giant crop mower and razed every animal in their path. I saw skunks ripped in half, foxes with intestines snaking out of their bellies and possums that seemed to have spontaneously combusted.

Then, as I approached one particularly steep and winding ascent outside of Richland, something caught my eye. When I looked, I saw a tiny creature flailing its arms and legs near the side of the road. It was an infant kangaroo rat or deer mouse, no bigger than two inches. Immediately I stopped my bike, staring at it with my mouth half-open. Then something hit me. I realized I might have to put this animal out of its misery. I was going to have to kill a two-inch baby rodent.

I threw my bike on the shoulder and ran over to see how hurt it was. It seemed fine, besides the fact of course that it was in the middle of the road and acting as if it were in a lot of pain. So instead of crushing its tiny skull, I scooped it up in my hand, ER style, and rushed it over to my bottle of water. I loosened the cap but when I went to give it a drop, it had already died. It had died between the time I picked it up and grabbed my water bottle.

I stood there, my bike gear strewn everywhere and my helmet still on, alone on a long stretch of highway staring at this tiny creature in my hand. I think it was around then I burst into tears. I couldn't handle it. I mean, I've seen a lot of road kill, but I've never had anything die in my hands before, ever. Sobbing uncontrollably, I built it a tiny grave out of rocks. After that, I did the only thing I could do. I got back on my bike and started riding again. I don't know if you've ever tried to ride a bike while sobbing uncontrollably, but it's really hard. Especially when there are semis rolling right by you, one after the other.

Shortly after I buried it, I had to pee. I imagined a hillbilly coming up and yelling at me for crying and pissing on his property. Thankfully that didn't happen.

Anyway, that's the end of my story.

Most people probably want to know other stuff about the trip besides roadkill counts. Here are some Significant Things that have happened:

1. I crossed the Oregon border at the Snake River into Idaho. What a great feeling!

2. Results from the gas station: I sat there for maybe 10 minutes before 3 cool dudes named Vince, John and Mike offered to take me out to dinner. I didn't get housing, but I did get some great company and a meal at an expensive pasta bar. Sweet!

3. I'm currently in Cambridge, Idaho at a public library. Every time I update my blog, it will show where I am in the upper lefthand corner, below my picture. Does anyone know of a better way to do a cool tracking system? Maybe with Google maps or something?

4. I met an awesome family in Halfway, Oregon, that I will mention later (Thanks Chip, Donna, Don & Leone, if you're reading!).

5. Pictures should be up here: http://picasaweb.google.com/will.blank
I haven't gone through and tagged anything, and so far I've been bad about taking photos, but there should be hope for the future. Don't fret.

6. Yes, my butt does hurt. And my fingers are still numb. Jesus, does that sound bad. Hope to hear from you all soon. Thanks for reading.