I’ve been keeping my nose to the grind so to speak for the last few days. Our meetings have been much more excessive than I previously thought they might be. As is appropriate I guess- we have a lot of rules for riding across the country. No doubt they will keep us safe.

We have done skills assessments like no one’s business: learning to change tubes and how to pick up spare change off the highway while riding. Highway change across 4,000 miles could really pad my wallet (okay so it was to test our balance. I found that I can’t pick up change, but if you drop your keys in front if me, don’t worry I’ve got ‘em).

Meals…well meals are interesting. Let’s just say I’m not eating like a Sultan- or even an average college student. I’m pretty sure high school students are eating more. Breakfast is usually half of a bagel, a cup of cereal, and what I like to call a “shot of Fiesta Sol” (really cheap orange drink). Lunch: two pieces of white bread, a deli slice of meat, a slice of cheese, and as much miracle whip as I can put on it. I don’t even like miracle whip! But anywhere I can get calories I make it happen. While riding we get a few intermittent mini-clif bars. Dinner is either pizza or something sponsored. I’m not complaining though, it’s actually a little humorous.

I’m slowly starting to realize my access to internet will be extremely limited. So, I will be updating mostly from my phone and therefore my posts may be shorter as typing short novels is not the most comfortable thing with the iPhone but I will try to keep my picture and video uploads daily. We have our first friendship visit tomorrow and I’ll let everyone know how it goes.

First off I have tons of new pictures and a new video: check them out!

As I am sitting here, the cool California air is reaching through an open window, seducing me to go outside and breathe in as much of it as my lungs can embrace. I’ve been to California once, but I forgot the drug like addiction with which it pulls at you from the moment you step out of the airport and into its open arms of large palms and sweet electric air. It is awesome. Not in the adolescent sense of the word, but it its true denotation. I am awe struck.

So far I have eaten a burrito at a run down taqueria that makes Chipotle and Freebirds taste like the disgusting creations of a McDonalds (henceforth known as “The D’s”), ridden a bike clear across the city with one of my gracious hosts with which I am staying, seen Captain Ahab play some sort of drum-tar or guit-rums (see my videos) and vigilantly kept an eye out for aliens (see my pictures). I have also noticed that in San Francisco, a cyclist feels a little like the equivalent of an 18-wheeler in Dallas. Drivers show you respect, they give you space and keep their distance; you are an important object on the road that people give right of way. It’s a great change of pace (I’m thinking I’ll just do a couple laps around California instead of going across the country?).

My flight was miserable (Thank you Southwest!) Dallas flight an hour late to Austin, missed my connecting to San Francisco. Laid over 3 hours waiting for my new flight to Denver? (Yeah, apparently to get to SF you need to go north first). Then I wait in the Mayan inspired Denver airport for my flight to San Francisco that is also 2 hours late. Overall more layover time than flight time. But from a quote my dad sent me, “The crisis of yesterday is a joke of tomorrow.”

Anyways, I start orientation in a few hours and then begin all the logistical training they have in store.

Look out…for us

Training. Without it, I would surely ride the first 5 miles of this Journey impressed with myself for what I had gotten into. The impressive black and yellow carbon fiber road bike, the ridiculously humbling spandex. Then my lungs would collapse, my heart would putter, I’d swerve into traffic, and get hit by the cars that drive about 2 feet to my left. The End. The end of Matt’s Journey of Hope.

But WAIT! I’ve been training for almost 6 months. With any luck, my lungs are deeper, my heart is stronger, and I keep a decent line in a peloton (the big draft pack of cyclists), if I may say so myself.

I began in December riding indoor at the gym as I had not yet found the perfect bike. Starting with a petty 30 minutes then working my way up to almost an hour and a half (laughable distances now). In my training I have found the biggest difference in indoor and outdoor cycling is this: indoor SUCKS! Its boring. The air is stale of musk and prepubescent Axe body spray. You stare at the drastically out of shape man riding in front of you; and he’s…is it possible? RAINING sweat! There is no wind in here! How does sweat move 6 feet?! To your left and right (no offense Mom) you have middle age soccer moms having a good ol’ time conversing right over your head…the iPod gets turned up.

Ahh but the outdoors. Even with the occasional skunk or septic plant, the air is fresh and alive. The whir of the tires across pavement is hypnotizing. And above all, my favorite thing about cycling: the groove. You know when you hit it. Your legs are pumping synchronous with you heart and your tucked inside the small pocket of slipstream from the pack in front. You could ride forever. It is almost spiritual. The outdoors, though, has its own hazards. Namely, the two tons flying by on your left. A. you have the cool guy that likes to honk. First off, NOT cool. It scares the hell out of cyclists and can make them shift their line into your lane or complete off the road! A. also has a lot to do with B. the people that can’t be bothered to shift to the furthest point in their lane. CHECK YOUR MIRRORS! No I’m not saying look to see behind you, I am saying, “Make sure they don’t hit me!” One of the most shocking things is a car side mirror at 45 mph coming inches from taking your head straight off. Another, I’ll say discomfort rather than hazard, is that gravely black top. It is miserable. Luckily the carbon fiber frame I am riding on helps to absorb a lot of the vibration, but even with that it is still akin to cross-country skiing on lava rocks.

I can feel my core becoming more solid, my heart feels better, and my stamina is through the roof. I also expect to come back after two months and look something like an ostrich. Skinny upper body and huge drumstick legs. I may post a before and after picture later on in the ride.

I leave in 2 days to begin orientation in San Francisco and in 6 days, the Golden Gate bridge will be mine…along with every southern highway in the U.S.

Well, here it is, the beginning of the rest of my summer: my first “blog” post. Please excuse my inexperience with blogging- by August 15th I’m sure I’ll be a pro…I’m also not sure how I’ll feel about that.

So far it’s been a wild ride, or literal lack thereof (I’ll speak of my training later). While my fund raising hit a sudden spike and rocketed to almost my required amount it has slowly come to within a couple hundred dollars of what I actually need. The whole process feels a bit like a rollercoaster ride (a bit cliché but hear me out).

I’m all strapped in: in this case with a few carbon fiber tubes strapped mechanically to my feet. I’ve started up the climb of fund raising and stop just before the peak. I’m staring down at one of the most shocking things I’ve ever seen: two months on a bicycle. A BICYCLE! You know when your dad or mom is running right behind you when you are first learning how to ride that sweet Ninja Turtle bike you got for your birthday? Maybe not. But ask me at 5 years old on that bike if I would one day ride across the U.S. on something much like it, I would have laughed, nailed the curb, broken an arm and maybe a leg and given up bikes all together.

But now, even as I stare at this…this…Titan of a rollercoaster straight down the rails, I am still inside; and doing back flips in/on my seat outside. This will be the most incredible thing I’ve ever done and I can’t wait for the rush to begin. Plunging wheels deep into my country to bring empathy and respect to people with disabilities who so often get exactly the opposite. I hope you will follow me on my Journey and see what Push America does for the people who need it. Not only will you see the thousands of faces everyone’s support has led me to paint smiles on, but you will see me change. You’ll see me bear white knuckles holding on for dear life as I speed through America and try as often as I can to slow it down and bring it to you.

Oh and did I mention you will also see how ridiculous I look in bike shorts and a helmet? Soak it in people, soak it in.

Here we go…