Remember Albert?

Semi-close to the California state line. 8:25pm.

There’s been one loose end hanging – one which I never really explained to you guys. You all remember Albert, right? The guy I rode with back in Kentucky, Illinois and maybe a bit of Missouri too.

We lost track of each other one day in Missouri I think it was. I thought he was ahead of me so i pedaled like a madman until I found out I had ended up way ahead of him without seeing him. A few days passed and i was consistently a good bit ahead, so we never ended up linking back up. Last I heard from him was somewhere in Kansas and I was probably a day and a half ahead of him at that point.

A week or so later I met the guy in the bike shop in Colorado who said he thought the western express route would be tough to do in three weeks – and that same day I met Daniel who told me he could show me a faster way up north on Interstate 80.

Fast forward two weeks and a few days. I’m now back on the western express after being off it since i met Daniel. I met two girls just now heading the other way, and they had met Albert. Three days ago just outside San Francisco!!!!

Is that fucking outrageous or what?! Hahaha. Here I am feeling like god damn speedy gonzales veering off the route thinking I’m picking up major time – and I end up losing 5 days! I got a good laugh out of that when I heard it.

I wouldn’t change the experiences I’ve gotten with Daniel for anything, but I will say this: the Adventure Cycling Association knows what the heck they’re doing when it comes to routing. If you want to cross the country fast – trust them and not the locals or anyone else really to get you there!

BUT, if you’re in it for the experience: be a yes-man and take everyone’s advice – it might slow you down but you’ll have a different experience.

Time to hop back on my steed and actually RIDE. Some people by a lake i was swimming in just gave me some corn dogs. I’d never had them before. Delish!!

1 thought on “Remember Albert?

  1. The only day when corndogs can be delish is when hell freezes over. You have lowered your standard for food to a worrying level and I can hear (between the lines) a craving for some traditional Svensk Husmanskost.
    Time to head home, My friend

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