The Meat and potatoes (or Juicy stuff for the vegetable folk)

It was not easy for me to get this far, and in this post I hope to convey a little bit of the feelings and thoughts that almost stopped this ride short. Also, I'm sorry this and the past post are so long, I just don't have much time to make them any shorter.
A stomach full of butterflies is the best way to describe how I felt when my brother was pulling out from the campgrounds in Lee Vining. I was really in it, and I was completely on my own. He left me with the advice of taking this journey one step at a time, and I could never explain how much that helped me. I was a nervous wreck, and I needed to get on the road to turn that energy into something productive. Over the first day of biking, I talked to a few people about my ride, and it felt terrible. Saying I was heading for Vancouver, and not knowing if I could make over the next day's mountain pass, made me really question what I was getting myself into. They must have been laughing at me behind their interested smiles and nods, as I surely would have been in their position. But maybe I hid my concerns well enough. I wanted out more than anything. My parents got the worst of it, and I could never thank them enough for helping me get over the first bit.
It took me about 4 hours to get up and over Monitor pass, that monster climb I will never forget on the second day. Around every winding turn was another snaking road, leading me from rocky banks to dry treeless foothills through forested switchbacks to a landscape of snow and wind. I felt much better after that summit, knowing nothing I would approach from then on would compare.
I was wrong, because the winds the next day were so bad I had to walk by bike up some of the way over Luther pass which leads into Lake Tahoe. Please keep in mind my bike weighs nearly 60 pounds with all the gear on it. Later that day, the rain came in full force, and it didn't take long for it to turn into snow. I was back in January and was not prepared. I really could have used gloves, but then again, nothing compares to the cold fingers felt during the March mornings of crew on the Potomac. The next day it was still very cold but also very clear, and I had a beautiful ride along Lake Tahoe and then Northwest to Truckee and then Sierraville. Finally, the ride from Sierraville to Greenville was equally beautiful and through patches of rain I rode 70 miles to meet Susie.
In the beginning, I wanted nothing more than for a pickup to just stop and ask if I needed a ride. I would have said just take me as far north as you are going, and I'd of been one happy camper. But not one stopped, and I am glad they didn't. I am also glad my thumb never made it up in the air either. I just kept going, one step at a time. And I got through it.
So I say I wanted to experience the unexpected. I have. And I didn't expect any of it, including the insanely immense feelings of loneliness and cold, of a sunburned face and relatively not sore butt. I really didn't expect how few bikers I would be seeing, though. Except after finishing my riding on Friday, I saw exactly 0 bike tourers along the whole route, over the whole week. I talked to one biker at the base of Monitor pass who was training for the Death race.
And nothing on my bike has broken, yet, but one other crucial piece has; my video camera. It literally just stopped working while filming my ride down from Monitor pass. I really hope I am able to still come away from this with some kind of a visual story. We will see. That is all I have for now, hopefully this all is conveying a little bit of this journey so far, and from now on I'll try my best to keep them more concise and frequent. That's the plan, and it'll probably go wrong. 

hello again internet

Wow, is this really me, back on a computer? It is, and back at home, no longer biking. It was very, very difficult riding, and I just wasn't up to the challenge. The Sierras were absolutely insane (breath-takingly beautiful and breath-takingly exhausting) and the cold days and even colder nights were just not my cup of tea...Okay, all true, but not truthfully told.
I am in Peanut, California with my very special family friends Susie and Joseph (Susie grew up a couple doors down from my mom in upstate New York). I consider their home a special place where a lot of my thoughts on creating a more meaningful life for myself took root several years ago (more on this later).
I didn't give up on riding either, I just cut it a little short. Instead of them picking me up in Red Bluff on Sunday the 29th, Susie so kindly picked me up in Greenville (oh you've never heard? don't worry) on Friday. I covered roughly 276 miles in the Sierras with a lot of ups and downs in between, the largest being Monitor Pass, a climb from about 5,000 ft to 8,314 ft. But more on the biking in the next post, I want to just give a brief overview of the week before biking because it was important to me and it should not go without mentioning.
I got to Chapman after about an hour of biking the streets from Corona del Mar to Orange. It was an amazing ride, felt faster than ever with my nice black shorts and new tires. Looking back, I think it was only the wind that pushed me.
I was stoked for every second I was at Chapman. I got to see so many friendly faces from over a year ago now, and honestly just felt cool telling people I was leaving that week to take off on such an epic-sounding adventure. I was excited and very full of energy and those who saw me at Chapman could tell you. It was an amazing time, and I wish it could have lasted longer.
Back in Corona del Mar, my brother and I went out in the Camaro to a rooftop bar overlooking the ocean, then to an amazing restaurant called Maro which was all sustainable and all so tasty. It would be the last time seeing the ocean, I now well know tears will start to roll once I see it again in about a week or so.
We left for Mammoth and rode all day Saturday, it was a little slushy but by the end I was getting used to it. I got a pretty bad goggle burn and I am still currently peeling that off as I am typing this post. Between that and some scratches incurred from Chapman, the trip has been more uncomfortable than it should have been. Sunday I got the last few things ready for the ride and my brother drove me to Lee Vining, the "Gateway to Yosemite" or something like that.
I'll stop here for now, and hopefully tomorrow (if Susie and Joseph don't give me too much work to do) will tell you all the details of the biking so far. Thanks for the continued interest and support, it really did help me get this far, believe me when I say I would NOT have gotten this far if it wasn't for all the positive encouragement, and crew...

It actually worked...

Firstly...check out meetthemoment.com - the video (on the site and below) is spectacular, the whole campaign struck an interesting chord within me, I think you'll all see why. Create a moment yourself so Clif Bar will donate some money to some good causes...and to not let the words "the east is making you soft" from A River Runs Through It come true. We've got nothing on the west right now. And no one steal my postcard's words of something along the lines of - "I will always, try my very hardest, to remain in a constant state of stoke."

To say that I had a plan for getting to California would be correct. My flight was scheduled for Tuesday, May 17th, at 3 in the afternoon. My bike was securely packed up, and everything else I needed for the entire trip fit into my snowboard bag and my camel back/camera case/tripod bulky carry-on luggage outfit. Upon arrival at the ticket counter, I found out I was exactly a day early. Good job Will. Basically, I was going to go back home, but instead payed the extra $100 to get on that day's flight. After the most helpful ticketing agent (I think Christine, but I could be mistaken) found out I was riding for a charity, they let my board AND bike fly free. I now love JetBlue. I will fly with them again. They even upgraded my seat and I sat next to a very very nice couple and we talked for much of the flight. I never got their names, but I will always remember them as my first new friends of the trip. I could tell I was already thinking differently, I'm now in the traveling mindset. Yes, and with this traveling mind comes an open mind ready to be filled with new people, exciting adventures, and new experiences to learn from. Feeling vulnerable might not be such a bad quality.

The bike is now all back together in one piece and it's time to hit the road and find my way to Chapman University for a fun fun night seeing some friends from the ship.

And by the way, searching the internet for directions to Chapman from Corona Del Mar, I got distracted and found this video. It was part of the Banff World Tour that came to State College, and it was one of the two that provided some of the inspiration for this trip and what I might want to be capturing. The other was called Salt, it was AMAZING, LIFE CHANGING, and here's the website for that... http://saltdoco.com/

Willy Mammoth westing the taters

it's also on youtube under the same name, a little better quality...full HD for this trip though by the end, I'm going big

First Reflection

go to 350.org!!!

some preliminary photos!

and a thought I have been struggling with...
I have heard the whole bit about enjoying the adventure, not the destination. I try to live it - as much as I can, and I feel like I have gotten pretty good (sometimes) at purely enjoying my days for what they bring. The unexpected sometimes hits like a train, and other times brushes past us without even knowing the unexpected was even there. It's life, and it is beautifully unpredictable. But back to my question, if my goal IS experiencing the unexpected journey, then what? How should I approach a trip whose goal is the very adventure itself? I know I'll enjoy it all, the ups and downs of both the hills and my mood of the day, but if every goal is just to enjoy the day, I really hope I am not ruining this trip by searching for the unexpected. Anyways, here are some pictures, the packing is nearly finished, and everything actually almost kind of fits.

All systems are - STARTLING

The initial phases of this trip were great, imagining myself cruising up the Pacific Coast Highway, sleeping on a beautiful cliff overlooking giant boulders and dunes with the most glorious sunset I've seen since Semester at Sea. Being inspired to make a movie about - something. But it is something nonetheless, and I want my creative juices to flow this summer, and I want to be happy, to continue being happy. However, those were the days, now it's all just planning and preparing and looking over maps. And already getting scared of the 3250 foot climb between my first and second day biking. That's been tough to chew, let alone swallow, but at least I know that it'll be the biggest one I have to face. I am taking both my snowboard and bike on the plane and I need to pack everything I'll need for a month. It's getting pretty daunting packing for this trip - to be honest I've never done anything quite like this. I have had a hectic time getting everything ready, and here I thought I had most everything I needed. I guess a whisperlite and an 11oz fuel bottle, a 3 man tent, and a cyclocross bike wasn't enough. Actually, forget the tent, I am going hammock with a make-shift rainfly. It was lighter, and cheaper. If it holds me now, I don't think I'll be gaining any more weight from now on to make it break. But makeshift more than anything else will be my panniers, those glorious deli-cat plastic containers so elegantly attached to the rear rack. I am almost ready though, my cameras are pretty much set, and hopefully I can get everything to fit.

All systems are - starting

Welcome to my brain!

I hope I am able to entertain and inform anybody and everybody interested in keeping tabs on my progress along my northern migration (I will be biking roughly 1400 from Mammoth Lakes, California, to Vancouver, British Columbia (well, at least to Seattle)). Anytime I see a computer along my ride that I'm able to use, I'll try to put up a thought or two from the miles past and times of unplanned awesomeness to come. This Tuesday my plane will be taking off for Long Beach. Here I come Chapman Undie Run! then driving up to Mammoth to get those last few turns in for the season. A broken arm put me out two days before March 4th and I received a beautiful titanium plate for my 21st birthday. I never got to see it. Well, until next time, go to 350.org and keep an atlas out to see my journey every step of the way. Who knows where I will really end up...