A Good Bonk

Well, I’m happy to say that I’m back in the saddle of my steel high horse again. Today I learned from none other than the New York Times that the doldrums that we hit is a phenomenon known among touring bicyclists as “bonking.” So you’ll be no doubt pleased to know that Willow and I bonked, and it was a grueling bonk that lasted several days, but now we’re done bonking (partly thanks to a lovely pep-comment from my mom (thanks mom!)) and we are going to get on with our lives. And (yay!) it’s beautiful outside again:

We’re also edified (is that the word I mean?) partly because we’ve stumbled upon the Trans-America bicycle route, famous among touring bikers, and so we have some sympathetic company. The TA runs between I think Richmond, Georgia and I think Astoria, Oregon. A few days ago we began noticing many loaded-down bicyclists sharing the highway, and upon us it dawned. Here are two of them, known affectionately as “The Germans”:

This creative moniker refers to the fact that they are from the faraway land of Germany. It was given to them by the proprietor of the Fish House Inn, an establishment where we all stayed in the tiny town of Dayville. Dayville is lovely for many reasons, including that it’s residents seem to fancy themselves as stand-ins for the Village People:

Being German, these two bikers are as good at getting things done as Americans like me are at stereotyping. That’s why I only have a photo of them from the rear. We’ve chatted a lot about biking but we still don’t know each otherseses names. They depart in the morning earlier than we do, but bike very slowly, so we have been catching them on the road each day. Something I think is pretty great is that all the experienced touring bicyclists we’ve met on this trip tend to go a lot slower than newbies like us. It’s a wonderful thing to strive for, IMHO.

Part of my edification or whatever from bonking is also derived from the amusement I get from saying “The Germans” in a funny accent each time I see them. I say it kind of like this: “the chur mince.” On the road, where the wind is whipping past along with the cars and trucks, you can say whatever you want out loud, or sing songs at the top of your lungs, or try–right out loud–to think of a third thing to put here to make this sentence feel complete.

Today we ran into the Germans stopped in front of this shoe-tree:

Weird.

Also, here’s another photo in the “moon over recreational vehicles” series:

Anyway that brings us to now, and Mitchell, Oregon. We have about a week until we hit the Oregon coast, and then about two more until we hit our new home city of San Francisco. And then, holy smokes, we’re really gonna bonk.

With love,

Lovely Bunny

SPECIAL BIKE-NERD SECTION: The Germans’ bikes

Koga-Miyata “Signature” series! Rad.

Aluminum, but sturdy-looking aluminum (aluminium?)

Rohloff 14-speed internal gearing hub. And fatty tires.

Adjustable-angle stem.

Some complicated rim-brake system I haven’t asked them about yet. Hydraulic?