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Kate was about 15 meters ahead, hair streaming, knees and elbows tucked in. A quick glance at the speedo shows 35 mph. Then braking hard for a hairpin, brakes squealing then cranking the bike hard over, further and further, nothing scrapes, then upright again.
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by Bill Joyce. Biking down the coast, I'm cruising with a tailwind, the royal blue Pacific to my right, all good things on my mind--and I pop two flats.
A fellow biker helps me with one; I fix the other. I go 10 more miles and my rear tire's flat, cooked, caput.
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Australia may be one of the earth’s smaller continents but it's leading the pack when the talk turns to island size. Predictably hot in most places, but surprisingly it can be bone-chilling cold in the south. Near Augusta, in Western Australia there is sign posted outside a “take away shop”, it has the dubious fame of proclaiming itself to be the last chance for food before Antarctica
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Eight bikers boarded an airplane in Minneapolis on July 18 and landed in Zurich July 19th. They unpacked their bikes and traveled 9 days in a circular pattern, which included travel along the southern edge of Lake Constance, and through the northern part of the Alps.
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There's something wrong with my wife's lips: Despite consistently negative responses from me, they keep uttering suggestions for "activities" I should undertake. Like this weekend, when, in a tone so normal she sounds completely insane, she suggests I should take the children "mountain biking."
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No, it’s true. Due to an early Christmas gift, I’m now a cyclist. This title came to me quite unexpectedly in the form of a blue/silver, 14 ½ inch, powered by SRAM, Trek Navigator 300 with grip shift.
Actually, I didn't intend to buy a bike; hubby G-Man did. We went to the bicycle shop, and while he straddled and unstraddled two or three dozen bikes, chatting with the salesman about tires and tubes, I wandered through the accessories.
That’s when I weakened. I’m a fool for a colorful array of gizmos.
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Who would be crazy enough to take a grueling 3,200-mile bicycle expedition from Montana to Alaska for two and one-half months? And who would pay 2,600 US dollars to make such a difficult journey? Finally, who in their right mind would prepare for that trek by spending $3,000 more for a new mountain bike, new panniers, new tools, new spare parts, new camping equipment, new cycling clothes, and a new camera?
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It's amazing how quickly the daily occurrences on a bike tour become routine.
The nuances of "normal" life - day after day staring at a computer for eight hours a day, driving home, making dinner, reading the paper, and going to bed - suddenly seem distant and strange. Peddling along a crumbling highway in the hot September sun - this seems normal.
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oad Trip. It’s a simple idea. Throw a few sleeping bags and cans of tuna in the back seat of a car, fill up the gas tank, and just go. Keep going. Go until the unfamiliar becomes familiar. Go until restlessness becomes comfort. Go until the unknown becomes routine. Ride for a while. Press your cheeks against a cold window, fix your gaze on the star-soaked sky, and drift to sleep as the world rolls effortlessly alongside.
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September 20, 2003: It’s really amazing how quickly America changes from the viewpoint of a cyclist. It would seem just the opposite – a cyclist moves at 10 mph, pedals only 50 to 70 miles a day, and takes two months to cover a distance that a car could do in three days. But a cyclist, more than any other person, will experience the sudden jolt of change in landscape or contour or even regional culture more than any other person.
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I was asked this question many a time as I'm sure all you other cyclists have been too, "What was your best day on a bike?" This got me thinking about what makes a best day.
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An Autumn Bicycle Tour Across America E-mail Me Hi. My name is Jill, and I’m a cyclist. Two years ago, my greatest cycling feat to date was a 13-mile jaunt on a single-speed banana seat Huffy along the Jordan River Corridor. In Fall 2003, I completed a 3,200 mile fully-loaded independent bicycle tour from Salt Lake City, Utah to Syracuse, New York. It has been a trip of discovery.
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For a cycle friendly Africa
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Bicycle Stories Some Funny, Some Not
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Over two dozen bicycle stories. Some of the titles are: Red Dust Lingo, Wheels Under Mind: You Can Climb Everest, Diary of DNF:Essentially trans-continental tag
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In 1997 I biked from Delaware to Oregon. It was a wonderful trip, and this site tells the story - people, sights, adventures, lessons. Also photos, route info, packing list and touring tips.
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Here you can find bicycle stories submitted by members and cyclists from around the the Pacific Northwest, all of North America and Europe and Asia, too. Perhaps you'll find the inspiration for your next tour, or helpful advice to plan a trip. In any case, we hope you enjoy the reading.
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WHEN YOU GO ON A BIKE TOUR, things happen. You see new things. You ride through new towns, new states, maybe new countries and continents. You travel new roads. You taste new food. You learn new habits, you appreciate new architecture, experience new reasons for new joy and new anger.
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Annie loved the bicycle. It was like an extension of her body; she moved her hand and it swerved, she pressed down with her foot and it pushed forward. She floated down the street lazily, looping around imaginary obstacles, squinting against the bright humid day.
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A page full of bike stories. Some examples: Alps Adventure, What was your best day on a bike?
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