Reflecting on the TransAm Express, and Bike Touring in General

This attempt to cross the USA by bike began on April 27th by dipping the rear wheel into the Atlantic at Rehoboth Beach, DE. It has now been four days since I rode into Florence, OR and concluded what became a truncated, two-part bike tour. Even though I've been sleeping long, hard and late, I still feel a bit wobbly... and I was only with the group in Phase 2 for the last seventeen of what was, for them, a seventy-five day adventure.

Some, like Joe (who had to drop out), were very kind, advising that he thought of me as a being "the confident one" who would surely make it all the way to the Pacific. Eric, who did finish, wrote that when I had to leave due to the rib injury on May 4th everyone was saddened as they were sure I could make it across the entire USA. I'm not so sure. Feel free to alert the New York Times and CNN, but I think my long-distance bike touring days are over. I know my ability to do self-contained (packs on the bike versus van-supported) tours, at least long ones, are now in the past. What Leslie and I could do with relative ease back in 2011 is now, without question, beyond my physical capability.

I may also lack the mental toughness to remain equanimous while being physically uncomfortable much of the time. Riding in the rain, waking up tired and in a tent, dealing with old man aches and pains... they are the price the long-distance bike tourist happily pays for the beauty and freedom of the ride, but on both ends of this trip my bank account seemed overdrawn much of the time.

I still might be able to do shorter (e.g., two week) van-supported tours, if the terrain is less hilly and the ride days are not so long. It is too early to tell. All this doesn't disappoint me, as I do try to see things as they exist, not as I'd like them to be. It's just the way things arise and fall away. Impermanence. Anicca, anicca.

At the end of the day, I'm glad I took on this challenge and was able to come back from a painful injury to be there with the true heroes, dipping our wheels together in the Pacific. I'm also glad it is over. No doubt, given time, the feeling of accomplishment for what I was able to do will be stronger than the feeling of disappointment in not being able to do it all, or the uncertainty as to whether I could have even managed to actually ride coast to coast.

What follows is more detail than I'd expect anyone to read. I'm noting much of it for my own purposes, as I can reference it later should memory fade and I begin to foolishly contemplate another "epic" bike tour.

But before going there, I want to thank all of you, dear readers, who have followed along on this journey and given me so much support. Knowing you cared truly helped me get out of the bag when it was 38 degrees F and crest that 12% climb when it was 108. Your being with me can't be measured in watts output, but has been greater than any e-motor I could have surreptitiously hidden in the bike.

Tom E

Vancouver, WA.

July 17, 2026

On the plus side:

• My main motivation for attempting the ride was to honor Leslie and raise funds for the National Ovarian Cancer Coalition:

  • Thanks to over 100 contributors, we raised $18,812 (and I'm not finished yet)

  • Are the NOCC's #1 active fundraising team

  • A genuine success (thank you all!)

• If the two phases of the ride are combined, this was my:

  • Sixteenth bike tour since Leslie and I began doing them in 2009

  • Third longest tour

  • Fifth most elevation gain in a tour, all of which is...

  • ... not too bad for a 73 YO silverback

• All the ride participants were wonderful companions

• Having 50 pounds of gear stowed in the van's trailer was marvelous, and the only way both myself, the bike and that gear could have made it into camp each afternoon

• The western scenery, starting in Ft. Collins, CO, was voted the best of the tour by those who finished, so one might say that I did the history part back east in the beginning and most of the dramatic western part at the end while skipping the boring "fly over" parts in the middle (with apologies to those of you in Missouri and Kansas)

• It was great exercise, and there was a sense of triumph once cresting a long, steep climb and coasting, sometimes for ten or more miles, down the other side

• Even at the end, I could still fly on the flats, gradual uphills and especially the downhills

• The turn-by-turn cues in Ride with GPS, loaded into the bike computer, were accurate and easy to follow, so I rarely felt uneasy about being lost

• The co-leaders knew their business, and had an amazing, intimate understanding of the route and what to expect, all of which was very reassuring

• When it rained in Montana and Idaho the leaders were okay with me getting a warm, dry cabin

• Every campground had showers, reminding me how such simple pleasures, taken for granted in civilian life, can ascend to being close to the top of one's "five best feelings ever" list

• Aside from one strange incident with a brake pad (blogged on June 29) there were no mechanical issues with the bike and no flats; the improvements (like carbon wheels, forks, suspension stem etc.) made for a very comfortable ride

On the down side:

• Few days in the saddle were actually fun (due to hills, distance, heat, rain, aches and pains)... perhaps only one of the first eight and three of the last seventeen

• The schedule, meaning miles that must be traveled and campsites reached, was all hard-coded, so one could not wait out a rainy day or take an extra rest day if tired (none of which was a surprise, being well known to anyone contemplating a formal, supported (versus independent) bike tour

• Virtually every day was exhausting:

  • Being off bikes for 1.5 months while the ribs healed really hurt conditioning

  • Climbing long, steep (10+%) ascents could be excruciating

  • At times the quads gave out and I had to frequently stop, something the younger Tom prided himself on rarely having to do

• Riding in the cold rain of Montana and Idaho would have been totally miserable had it not been for the spectacular scenery (such as along the Lochsa River, a special place loved by Leslie from our earlier touring days)

• Not to put too fine a point on saddle soreness, but:

  • Riding wet those first three days caused serious chafing

  • My friend, "Butt Butter" is designed to reduce that

  • No matter how much I applied, it seemed to wear off with agonizing results

  • Finally hit on simply smearing the BB into the cycling short's seat pad (instead of me) until it actually felt waxy, taking a Tylenol and Advil in the morning as we started riding and applying Neosporin (to me) at night... all of which made it tolerable to ride again next day

• Sleep was at a premium:

  • By the time dinner was over/cleaned up, we'd had our "map meeting" for tomorrow's ride and I updated the blog posts, rolling into the bag would be around 9:00 PM

  • I'd have to wake up at 5:15 AM to get de-camped

  • On some days, when getting to camp early, I'd nap for as long as three ours

• Some ACA rules (like not riding two abreast, even if on a country road where there was no traffic and one could see a mile in both directions, and always having breakfast at 6:30 AM and dinner at 6:30 PM... on the dot and never a minute sooner) seemed doctrinaire and inflexible

• I had one incident in Idaho where I almost lost control of the bike, and it baffles me to this day:

  • It was a long, somewhat steep descent

  • Near the bottom I was braking and taking an easy, perhaps 15 mph left hand loop

  • Suddenly the front of the bike started vibrating, which soon became quite violent

  • As soon as I'd correct a right leaning vibration the bike would instantly vibrate left... then right and so on

  • I was able to finally stop, but it was a near run thing

  • Perhaps there was a crosswind?

  • I thought I had a front tire flat, but no... all was well

  • After that I stopped trying to reach 40 mph on the descents

• While I was made to feel welcome rejoining the group, everyone had, by that time, established strong bonds and friendships, knew one another's habits and riding style; I often felt just a bit outside of this (but expected it, and didn't resent it)

• By the time I rejoined the group everyone knew exactly what to do in camp to help with meal set-up, cooking and clean-up:

  • I had to re-learn it and often made mistakes or got in the way

  • Got the feeling I sometimes irritated one of the co-leaders

I can't believe you read all of this! I do believe I am forever in your debt for doing so.

TE