Hello friends, family and those we've met on the road! Welcome to the sixth edition of our newsletter, this time typed from Yosemite valley.
We've not done huge amounts of riding since the last letter, but it has been particularly eventful, and I promised to answer some of the thoughtful questions you sent over, so I will provide a quick update before launching into those.
Tahoe to Yosemite has, unsurprisingly, been a visually stimulating and incredibly hilly section. What started as wooded and jagged gave way to Cowboy-country dustyness before transforming into the monumental granite of the National Park.
We (okay, Suzie) struggled considerably the first two days, as the effects of having taken a week off the bike, coupled with the altitude, took their toll. This meant we found it difficult to keep up with Martin and Christa, a couple from Switzerland who are riding from the Canadian to Mexican border via the in-land route. Unlike the coastal roads, this section is far less populated by cyclists, so they were excited to see us, which in turn made us feel a bit special.
Because they've been climbing mountains for five weeks, their ascent up Monitor Pass was impressively speedy. We agreed to meet up again in Yosemite, but, sadly, Christa has since been in a crash (which I mention below in the answer about safety on the roads). We dearly hope to see them again, after their well-deserved rest, and hope to buy them a cold beverage as a thank you for them letting us use their campsite reservation in Yosemite. You can read more about their travels here.
Because there are fewer cyclists on this road, people out here are even more excited to meet us, and the generosity we have encountered has, again, been overwhelming. From apple slices offered at the side of the road, to complimentary coffees, full Indian banquets and much-needed car rides to find our lost property (don't ask), we are full to bursting with gratitude. A common refrain is that people are excited to see us "getting out there and doing something", which is lovely. It's a pleasure to meet people and encounter some of this state's affection for outdoor pursuits, which we have been glad to discover also stretches to the smelly people engaging in them.
We've now been in Yosemite for a few days, resting up in perhaps the world's most resplendent valley, and we now plan to get back on the road, heading south and into the heat, tomorrow. We are aiming to change our normal schedule so we are getting up earlier, to ride before the sun really gets fired up, but we have no idea how feasible that will be. It's currently 34 degrees here, and we are still at altitude. Please wish us well, and that we encounter kindly truck drivers, should we end up having to hitch back to the coast.
Readers' questions
Do you guys have a song that you sing as you ride?
There’s no tour ‘theme song’ as of yet, but Greg and I did get 'California' by Phantom Planet (which was the theme tune to 'The OC' in the noughties) in our heads for around two weeks while our route straddled the state border. You’ll remember that song as being quite good, a real belter, but if you listen again you’ll realise it’s basically a nursery rhyme, and terrible. We got to the stage where one of us just had to utter two seconds of the ‘jahhhhhhh’ to prompt unison and also self hatred. We tried numerous times to replace it with another of the many songs about California, but, sadly, none of them stuck the same.
Other than that, I’ve been regularly listening to Beyoncé’s Renaissance and an audiobook of The Lord of the Rings, and can confirm they are excellent accompaniments for climbing. Ed finds Blindboy’s voice to be soothing and his content pleasantly repetitive, so he enjoys listening to that podcast.
What’s the weirdest thought train you’ve got stuck on whilst riding?
I think a lot about some of the people we’ve met, imagining their lives and how they might explain to another person their encounter with us, which is a bit self obsessed, I suppose. I also get pretty deep into fantasising about someone pulling over and offering us a lift when it’s a particularly brutal section of climbing (but I’m usually glad they didn’t at the end). Ed occupies himself by constantly looking out for treasure on the side of the road - his definition of treasure stretches from a whole loaf of bread to a particularly good rubber band, both of which we have found in the past.
Have you swam in the sea? If not, why so?
We absolutely have! First in Alaska, where it was cold, but I am convinced not as cold as the sea in Ballycastle, County Antrim. Since then, only a couple of dips in the Pacific, as when we were on the coast the weather was quite changeable and often the ocean was fearsome. We’ve done a lot of river swimming, however, which is perfect for cooling down on a hot day, and making you a tiny bit cleaner than before. Our favourite dips so far have been in the Smith River in Northern California.
Suzie, how many $$$ would you pay for a portion of those M&S pita chips and hummus right now?
I do miss consistent hummus access very much, however I am going to say £0, because our friends Chris and Alyson gave us a Whole Foods gift card before we left, and the thought of premium-grade chickpea mush in LA is proving to be a good motivator.
This isn’t a question, but just wanted to remind you I am always game for poop anecdotes.
I don’t have a poop anecdotes yet but I have, excitingly, added a pee rag to my inventory. I know, I know, it sounds disgusting and that’s because it is. But it’s also quite a clever little bit of kit, which you can read about here, that stops me having to drag ziplocks full of used toilet roll around the country.
I would like to know if you ever have to get off and push. The hills make me feel tired just reading it.
Yes! But not as much as I might have on a different bike. Getting off and pushing was a really big part of cycling for me until I got my touring bicycle. The geometry of it makes me feel much closer to the ground, and less like I’m going to topple sideways every time I’m on a gradient. So it’s much easier to get into the lowest gear and keep pedalling. Ed is just naturally much fitter than me and I’ve never seen him push his bike up a hill. This could change considerably when we get into Central America, where we are told the gradients often get into the 20s and the roads can be made of dirt.
Please can you address 'only one outfit' in your next newsletter?
I have very few clothes and none of them are in the style of clothing I used to wear regularly. This is something I’ve struggled with since the beginning of the trip. I see myself in the mirror and I don’t see a person I recognise looking back at me. Right now I am an Outdoorswoman TM, and sometimes when I see someone in black jeans and a denim jacket I have to use every ounce of self restraint not to shout after them ‘I also normally live in a city!’ My self expression not matching my vision of myself is the top thing that makes me feel uncomfortable day to day, despite me being in no way a 'fashion person', and said clothes being, of course, very comfortable. I admire my garments for their technical prowess, and I am happy with my choices, but in summation, after this trip I might start a company that makes boxy adventure clothing that only comes in black.
My main question is "are you having the best time”? Because that's how it looks.
I’m delighted to hear the propaganda is working. We are having a wonderful time, but it would be insane to say it’s always the best. We live outside and spend a lot of time and energy working out where we’re going to find food and sleep. This takes a psychic toll and I often find that if we indulge in two consecutive rest days, I start to realise how tired I am. I would liken it to Sunday night dread, but instead of it being about checking your work inbox, it’s about having to make sure we won’t die of exposure. But I’d still rather that than the emails, and I think about how fortunate I am to be in this position, and how incredible the things we are seeing are, roughly every ten minutes.
What's the coolest animal you have encountered?
Ed says: porcupine or grizzly bear (both Alaska). I say beaver (Alaska) or grey whales (Oregon). All very cool for different reasons. Ed thinks that seeing wildlife every day is one of his favourite parts of being on tour.
Have you had any negative experiences with motor cars?
Many scary passes, but I would say no truly close shaves. It’s becoming clear from talking to people here that in the US no one is ever taught how to pass a cyclist - well-meaning people often say to us: ‘State law says I have to give you 4ft of space, but that puts me into the other lane, which is so dangerous!’ The idea of slowing down and waiting behind us until after a blind corner, for instance, is just not in their frame of reference. Again - good, kind people say this to us. There is just a strong sense that the road is for cars, and we belong in the shoulder, despite the fact the shoulder regularly disappears. Officials at state and national parks also like to warn us that the road is narrow and to be careful, but I’m not sure anyone tells the drivers to be wary of cyclists. This recently came home to roost when Christa, mentioned above, got hit on the park road in Yosemite. Thankfully nothing is broken but she is needing to take some time off the bike - we are wishing her a speedy recovery!
Is it strange that the landscape and weather are constantly changing? Does it give you a kind of 'place lag' or is it okay because you're the one doing the locomoting?
This is a great question. I actually have found we get ‘time lag’ - something about constantly moving means you ascribe environmental change to the distance you’ve travelled rather than the time that has passed. I have a sort of innate feeling that it’s still early summer, and that the fact there’s only 13 hours or so of daylight at the moment is due to how much further south we are. That is somewhat true, but it’s more the fact that now it is nearly autumn.
Are you bored of massive tress yet?
No, definitely not. Not only are they majestic, they also shade our way, which is very needed right now. The coastal redwoods were tall, but we’re about to go into Sequoia National Park, where they are girthy and literally massive. We cannot wait.
Thanks and shout-outs
Martin and Christa
Pat and Chris
Rita
Alex
Pete and Louise
The backpacker camp residents at White Wolf
Mel and Ed
Evvie, Juan and Sergio (a thousand times over, THANK YOU)
The family at Swinging Bridge - sorry we didn't get your names!
Manju and Kanti
Hans
Brita
Richard and Diane
About us
We are Edwin Foote and Suzie McCracken - thanks for signing up for our newsletter! Edwin is from England and Suzie is from Northern Ireland and normally we live together in Deptford, south-east London. We arrived in Fairbanks, Alaska, in May 2022 and are attempting to ride our bicycles the length of the Americas, hoping to finish in Argentina in 2024. If you have any recommendations of things we should do, people we should meet or places we should stay, we'd love to hear from you! Please reply to this email, or follow us on Instagram (ed_win or _suziemccracken).