I was cleaning a pile of tents and stoves that were just returned from a previous bicycle journey. I loved my low paying hard working job at American Youth Hostels 132 Spring Street NYC. My first encounter with American Youth hostels was when I bought a pass which would allow me entry into Youth Hostel accommodations around the world. I had already done a few clueless cycle trips to Europe.
There were no bike touring books or videos back then. On my first European tour in 1971 my equipment included a backpack and plastic tube tent. I knew nothing about panniers. A few solo bike tours later I met two guys along the Coast of Yugoslavia that suggested we meet somewhere to write a bike touring book and certainly wish we took the time to do so. We were too busy living life.
On this day in 1975I I was certainly not expecting the big question or the challenge that was about to follow.
“Rosie, we were wondereing if you could just fill in as a trip leader for a few days?” was the big question. With almost an immediate response I said “sure what is it?” “Oh just the coast to coast bike trip.” Almost immediately I responded with a confirmation of Yes. Despite it being 46 years ago I remember quite a bit of what followed. I was wearing a skirt that day despite working in a dirty, dusty basement where large rodents could occassionally be spotted. I was thrillled to be part of a team of outdoors people that seemed to care little about the poor wages me made and more interested in the equipment discount, the commradery and the days off that were often spent somewhere in the woods or on the bike.
Elliot was glad I was up for the task and then threw the next question at me. “Do you think you could run the pretrip meeting with the teens and their parents…..by the way it’s happening in a half hour? I responded with something like “yeah sure”. And so I took a few minutes to wash the grease and dirt off my hands. I headed upstairs. I received a few minute briefing on the trip dates and the number of teens. Basically all I knew was that it was a 74 day unsupported bike trip. We would choose our own route , carry our own gear and have to fly back from the west coast 74 days later. All I knew, or thought I knew, was that I was just filling in for a few days till the permanent leader was chosen.
I knew a little bit about the flow of an American Youth Hostels bike tour since I lead a one week trip in New Jersey the year before. I had also cycled a few times around Europe. None of this was really much qualification for what I was to embark upon. I fudged my way through the meeting, chatting about safety and working as a team, etc etc. At the end of the meeting I overheard one dad saying something like “she’s cute but do ya think she can do it?”
I had a few days to get my life and gear in order. Groceries remained in my apartment refridgerator assuming I would return in a few days time. Boy was I mistaken. I was offered the choice of using one of their fleet bikes. They decided to have Ed, the mechanic snd good friend assemble a new one for me. And so, the night before the trip he assembeled my $100 Atala bike. I don’t believe I even did a test ride. I recall sleeping in a large cardboard box filled with sleeping bags, I was so tired I didnt even worry about the rodents that also shared the basement area.
My orange AYH panniers held items including cut off cotton shorts, a few cotton T shirts and rain gear we were all wearing back then called the slack jack. We sold hundreds of these in our equipment store. It was made of some kind of unbreathable nylon with a reflective set of vertical stripes. Around the hip section were a series of snaps. When unsnapped it turned into a full suit. After some usage I realized I got nearly as wet sweating in the suit as I did just allowing the rain to drench me. It was highly impractical but we thought it was state if the art back then.
The day before the trip I met with the organization’s director. Ralph was cordial but slightly intimidating to me at that time. He had a very purposeful drill sargent kinda walk. Over the course of the following years I came to realize what a wonderful guy he really was. He issued a pile of travellers checks to me as if I were to be with the group for the full 74 days. This should have been the first big red flag. My salary was to be $4.00 a day. And yes, that is not a typo.
And so, on the morning of June 23, 1975 there was maham at 132:Spring Street NYC. I was still thinking I was only scheduled to be responsible for these kids for a few days. It was, however, a pretty overwhelming site. Dozens of eyes were upon me as teens, family, friends and coworkers watched what was about to unfold. I suppose it looked like we were clueless and I believe that now to be fairly true. Everyone needed my help,at the same time. Panniers were not secured properly, sleeping bags were popping out of stuff sacks, bike lights were dangling off frames and parents were giving last minute instructions to their kids. Statements like “call home once a week” and “listen to the leader” could be heard. Oh boy, I realized I was the leader. I recall doing the five minute bike check with the kids. It was a routine we did each morning checking brakes and gears, tires and spokes, panniers and bungie cords and on and so forth, It never took five minutes and seemed to take forever on this morning with dozens of onlookers. I gave the safety lecture and a brief talk about how we would ride toward the George Washington bridge and beyond. We were finally off and it suddenly and finally hit me… their parents entrusted me with their children. Perhaps they had faith in me yet I was starting to loose faith in myself.
Had I been told I was to be responsible for these youths for the full 74 days I would have probably asked more questions. I am not sure if I would have accepted the task. I was overwhelmed just a few days into the journey. I was not in shape but was forced to get in better shape as the days wore on. I had a few paper maps and some notes I took after reading the hand written journals from a few previous trips. The kids looked to me as if I knew something, I felt like I knew very litte.
It was a never ending list of tasks I was responsible for. Getting the teens up each morning was a challenge in itself. It seemed like they wanted to complete a bike trip across America but didn’t want to go through the motions that needed to constantly be done…. like getting up early, packing their tents and gear, cooking meals, cleaning up, shopping for food, planning a route, carrying group equipment, getting used to each other and getting along with each other…the list was endless. I started to call the office each day to tell them I felt overwhelmed and by the way when are you sending the permanent leader? I always seemed to be carrying around a few pounds of coins to be able to make these daily calls. It wasnt getting any easier.
Sheldon had the best bike. He had a habit of reminding us of that. A few days into the trip Sheldon had a series of unfortunate occurrances. Andy was already starting to brake spokes and thusly became known as the ”spokesman” for the group. These were the days before cell phones and helmets. The only way to be in contact with each other was to flag down a vehicle or two and send paper notes to each other.
A car came way too close to Sheldon”s bike or maybe Sheldon swirved out into traffic resulting in one pannier being torn off the bike. He was able to retrieve it down the road. His next calamity was when the drop out ( where the rear wheel slid into the frame of the bike) dropped out. He bike was thusly unrideabe. I was always the last rider. No one was allowed to be riding without the superhero???? behind them. I flagged down an old station wagon. Sheldon and I got in the car and bikes went on top. I believe we then passed and picked up one or two more of the kids strapping more bikes on top. I had no idea how the trip would carry on during the days to follow.
After rounding up as much loose change as possible I made the call to the AYH support staff. Of course my first question was regarding my replacement leader. There was no response, once again, to that pressing question. We decided that Sheldon’s bike would be shipped back to his bike shop, that AYH would ship out a temporary bike and that Sheldon would be shipped ahead (or rather bused ahead each day) to each day’s destination. To this day there is the pressing issue of me wanting to ride the Callacoon to Hancock route that I had to do in a car ride. Perhaps I will never do it. I am not committed to being part of the ride every mile club.
In retrospect AYH did a fantastic job of getting his temporary replacement bike out the very next day on a Greyhound bus. The very next year we were a support service for the big Bikecentennial event of 1976. We shipped boxes upon boxes to makeshift bike shops along the Bikecentennial route. We also ran to the Port Authority in NYC at the drop of a hat or phone call when someone was in need of a new wheel or derraileur or whatever.
And so Sheldon rode the $100 loaner Atala biike for several,days while waiting for his bike shop to ship his replacement bike of much higher quality. He whined and whined about the loaner bike until finally his package arrived.
I was beginning to think I was there for the duration of the trip. I was starting to feel confident. Certainly I was getting stronger physically as well as in my role as a leader. People were starting to,accept the fact that there were chores to be shared all day, each day. We were becoming a team instead of a bunch of individuals with different goals. It was a never ending battle to get them to call home once a week. In retrospect, I am extremely grateful that we didnt have the interruptions that would bave been caused by ownership of cell phones, video games and constant outside interruptions.
Sometime about halfway across America AYH asked if I wanted to be relieved of my duties. Having come so far the answer was easy and I was committed to the task. There was no turning back, we were a family in a superb shared experience. Everyone kinda knew what needed to be done by now.
Wake early, pack tents, eat something not too healthy, head to what would appear to be a decent size town on the map often finding out it was just a crossroads with no services, complain about there being often nothing but a soda machine at our meeting spot, ride further, find a grocery store, barely get outside the store only to sit on the ground and dig into more unhealthy food like animals in a zoo that hadn’t been fed in a month. We were surely a sight to see. All this and it probably was only 9 or 10 am.
There was the constant interruption of questions from those passing by like “ where did you come from, how far ya headed, how many flats have you had, why are you doimg this, hey there is a monster hill ahead and so forth.” The kids got so tired of the same questions that they often displayed a cardboard sign with the answers. It was commonplace to be interviwed by a local newspaper reporter. I recall being on local TV and radio at least once. It was a novelty back then as it was prior to Bikecentennial, to established routes, guidebooks and how to videos.
On rare occasions we would spring for a diner breakfast. We usually got the .99 cent special. There was a budget. I recall a budget of a few dollars each day per kid for food. A dollar or two per kid each day for accommodations and a bit of money towards entertainment such as a movie, a museum or some other entertainment or something else we had no time, energy or interest in.
It was my job to stay in the budget and document all our spendings in the journal I was supposed to write in each day. Did they really expect I would have time for that?
We became rather savy at spending almost nothing on accommodations and camping fees. By the end of the trip, that money saved allowed us some great restaurant meals and some nice motels. Kudos to the faster riders. Upon arrival at our days destination they were the scouts helping us determine where we were to spend each night. Quite often we would have a few choices of free places to stay. It was kinda like todayls Warm Showers website where folks wanna offer free lodging and meals to cyclists just to be nice and oerhaps share in the adventure.
We had a route meeting each morning. We used what we called the Drop System. If the lead person had to make a turn off the existing road it was their responsibility to wait for the next person before making that turn. The next cyclist had to wait for the next person and so forth. It usually worked quite well unless someone got side tracked with having to do a pee break or were tempted by an icecream stand or other diversion. Of course there was no texting or phone messaging.
We relyed often upon the kindness of strangers and cars passing by. What other means do ya have when you see a twister (tornado) in the distance. It’s frightening when you are the leader stuck in the back, with kids separated by miles. Ya flag down a car, ya give them a paper note , you tell the driver how many cyclists they needed to pass before delivering the note to the lead person. You tell the leader to seek shelter, to round up the group, as each approaches and to wait. I would send a second note or sometimes a third note and then pray. You were lucky if there were enough cars on the road that day.
The thought of the overwhelming responsibility that was laid upon me at the age of 21 is now frightening some 46 years later. At the age of 67 I can certainly think of the endless number of things that could have gone wrong. I think of the constant and overwhelming amount of kindness of strangers that we were presented with each day. I think about the parents that entrusted their children with me. One might say, well that was 1975 and this is 2021 and times are certainly different.
Yes, times are certainly different. There are now established routes, there are a multiple of cross country companies that you could sign up,with. You can even have your gear carted around and all your meals prepared for you. You can sleep in a bed each night and shower every day. You can post photos of your adventure all day on social media.
I was blessed to repeat such an adventure again at age 64. I did use the Adventure Cycling route map for the Trans America Route from Virginia to Oregon. I did have a flip phone with me and a radio as well. I still carried my own gear, set up,a tent and cooked food. I did rely on the kindness of strangers which occured every day.
People would ask me if I was afraid to make such a journey during this new time period. I would often respond by saying “if one doesnt listen to the news or watch TV and is cycling the backroads of America that person woukd certainly believe the world is a wonderful place filled with good folks. And so I like to believe it to be true now as well as back then. Life is certainly good.
I am grateful I was given the opportunity 46 years ago; I am happy to still live an adventurous life.
Life is good