Photosynthesis: one part sun, ten parts water.

Did I say sunny California? The truth is, all these redwoods need a lot of water, which happens to come often in the springtime. Luckily we have the outlook of the dry and hot southwest desert to keep us motivated. By the time we hit New Mexico, we'll probably be doing rain dances.

Over the last few days we have been cruising through redwood country. The trees which make up this enormous organism are epic in girth and height. Today we rode down the Avenue of the Giants. It is a beautiful road, and I sincerely suggest riding, walking, or driving through. The road is being absorbed by the massive trees lining it, and this fight between human and nature creates a beautifully secluded alley. It's great that someone saw the intrinsic value of these trees and has successfully protected them. Without such stewardship, we could only hear about the great redwood sequoias that use to thrive.

Golden.

Ahhh, sunny California. After a total of nine days pedaling and one day resting, we have successfully crossed our first state line. I do love Oregon, but it is time to say goodbye to the beaver state for now, and explore more of the great union which comprises the US of A. As a result of our small accomplishment, I find myself excited for a variety of reasons; I have the freedom and resources to attempt this feat, I am attempting this feat, and whatever the result, I will know more tomorrow than I did yesterday and do today.

Since our departure, we have spent a quarter of the time in the rain, I have spent half the time cold, we have ridin an accumulative 450 miles, patronized two restaurants, broke down and stayed in one very cheap motel, and have countless more countables. In summary, it has been a great experience for us thus far, and we can only assume more and better is on the horizon.

Reflections from a week on the road.

In anticipating this trip, it was hard to fully comprehend all the details of a life on the road. Where to sleep, what to eat, how many miles to ride; basically, how to sustain a demanding and challenging lifestyle such as this for an extended period of time. After successfully living through a week on the road, many of the same questions remain, but have also been answered. These questions mostly still remain day to day, but the discomfort of the uncertainties has diminished through experience. Also, a new variable has introduced itself; the true enormity of this country from the perspective of a human powered vessel. It's feasible to ride, eat, sleep for numberless days, but how much can one really take? Some individuals can withstand multiple years, only time will tell what Kane, Dan, and myself can tolerate.

Two days of fun in the sun.

Riding through the central Oregon coast has been a small tour into some Ken Kesey settings. Depot Bay, Darlingtonias, Newport, Wakonda, and more. Day by day, we're realizing how our lives fit into four bags and some rack space. The first two days forced us to scramble our shelters together and keep everything as dry as possible. Now that we've had two days sans precipitation, the tailoring of organization has been a popular theme. Deciding what is used often, with what other items, and where is a practice of simplistic thinking and personalization. In the end, this process allows a seemless transition of a scenic rest spot into a temporary kitchen with a view. This lifestyle may be simpler in some regards, but it consists of all the necessities; eat, sleep, live.

Cool, wet roads.

Two days on the bike, almost completely in the rain can really bring perspective to life without constant downpours. Packing up camp, taking ride breaks, heck, even riding feels fantastic when it's not raining. Make no mistake; riding in the dark, the rain, on a washed out road is fun. Only sometimes. I am more than greatful for the flora and fauna the northwest rain supports, I'm also elated to coast down the mossy oceanic highway underneath a rare sun sighting.

Spring into the rainforest.

Living out of packs in a rainforest, in the middle of the rainy season can easily be described with one word: wet. Fortunately our spirits are high; we have many "dry" skills to learn and much road to look forward to. For now, the laundromat will suffice.

Time to roll.

And so begins another trip of a lifetime. Nineteen months ago, I boarded a plane for Korea to explore a new culture in a new region. One month ago I returned with new perspectives on the world, and how my native country fits into it. Throughout my temporary expatriation, I was continually reminded how little I know about the USA, it's people, geography, culture, etc. Many Koreans truly idolize the USA, make it a point of interest in their world travel, and often leave their own country to live here. For these reasons, and in the interest of continual exploration and adventure, I have decided to hit the old country roads of America that John Denver sang about, in search of my country, my pride, most importantly, my patriotism.

As an enthusiastic member of the cycling community, I see the bicycle as the necessary tool for hitting the road. By bicycle, a person can interact with the intimate details of a place and the people around it; at a level difficult to reach by car, plane, train, or bus. Though the label of cyclist often finds itself intertwined in partisan debates, I hope to overcome the stereotypes placed upon my identity, and bond with all walks of life in the USA.

Over the course of this trip, of an indefinite timeline, and of a loosely defined route from the West to the East, and back, I will be publishing the exploits of myself and my traveling companions; Dan and Kane. Please feel free to share ideas, contacts, etc. in the comments section of this blog.

A special thanks Sellwood Cycle Repair and Kona for providing a sturdy bike and helping make this trip possible. Also, to all my family and friends who have supported me in this endeavor; most importantly Emily, whose enthusiasm, encouragement, and selflessness has inspired me to fulfill such an epic experience.

More to come.