kind of a long drive...

So it turns out that Vermont isn't exactly on the way to Colorado. Still, the extra few hours of driving were definitely worth it. Vermont was lovely. We spent two days exploring the trails around Stowe and eating Ben & Jerry's. Montana even got a chance to wear his banana suit and get rowdy at the Single Speed USA ride. I was a little sad that I sold my single speed, but I don't really think I'm up for a 25-mile ride on steep, rooty Vermont trails with beer at the aid stations instead of water.

The next morning we headed out to Burlington, up to the Canadian border, down through the Adirondacks, and across the Midwest. I'd never been further north than Lake Erie, so I hardly knew those mountains existed. New England was lovely and cool, with rivers and mountains on par with New Zealand scenery. 

But in a few hours the mountains were over, and the Midwest reared its ugly, flat head. We drove through the night to Ohio and stopped for a couple hours at another friend's house. When we hit the road again we managed to get outside of St. Louis before crawling back into our sleeping bags for the night in an empty parking lot.

In the morning we found out that the air conditioning in the truck wasn't doing too well. That is, it wasn't working at all. We were in for 12 hours of flat, dusty hell. Halfway through blazing Kansas we had to stop and soak ourselves with an emergency water pump at a rest stop. 

Finally a storm rolled over the plains as we crossed the Colorado border. The air cooled off and the wind funneled into the cab, sluffing off the Kansas dust and drying the sweat beading on our foreheads. We turned a corner as the front ranges spike up in front of the setting sun.

Sam's haven of pro mountain biking was only half an hour away in Boulder. Thank God. I really needed a shower.

Amurrica!

So a couple days after America's birthday I stepped off the plane at LAX, into the welcoming arms of Lady Liberty - a disgruntled security guard who herded our whole flight past customs, past the baggage claim, and out onto the sidewalk. I started humming "Party in the USA". Police dogs were barking. Cop cars were flashing their lights. The whole terminal was evacuated. Nobody told us what was going on, so we ate some bad tacos and wandered back to the baggage claim two hours later. Our luggage was there, along with a dozen pissed-off airport employees who couldn't understand why everyone was so late getting their bags.

If that had happened in New Zealand, the airport would've given all the passengers a cookie and a hug.

After two more red-eye flights, I staggered into Pittsburgh International Airport where my mother and boyfriend were waiting. I piled my luggage on top of Montana and insisted on eating breakfast at the Cracker Barrel.

I hung around the house for a few days, waiting for the swelling in my ankles to go down. I went on a couple runs and nearly drowned in my own sweat. I realized that I was operating under a false sense of fitness in New Zealand. Running ten miles along the cool, clear waterfront is worlds different from running on a Pennsylvanian mountain trail on a humid, 95º day. I feel like a sack of hot mud with legs. The ten pounds I gained from eating cake with full-fate lattes for lunch isn't helping much either.

I spent a day saying hi to people I hadn't seen in four months and catching up with some local gossip.

Then I packed up again. Last Wednesday the parents and I took a trip down south to visit my brother in Athens, Georgia. We stopped off for a couple days in Asheville, NC to take in the Smoky Mountain air. Then I spent the weekend wandering around Athens with the brother while my parents shopped for antique records and whined about the heat.

After a week of eating cheese grits and affecting a Southern twang, I feel just about as Americanized as possible.

So now I have another week at home, and then Montana and I are off again to Colorado for some bike races and altitude training (more on that at his blog here). He's helping me build up another bike to replace the one I sold to New Zealand. Then we're shooting back over to Ohio to start my last fall semester in Wooster.

It's really nice to be back - even if it's just for a little while.