They say the best way to see the country is on two wheels, one pedal stroke at a time. But today, on my fifth day of a stubborn stomach illness, my “one pedal stroke at a time” looked more like “one mile at a time” from the back of the support van.
While I’m disappointed to not be riding single-file behind Jeff, something shifted today. For the last few days, I just wanted to curl up and sleep the miles away. Today, I finally found myself looking out the windows, and what I saw was breathtaking.
The Changing Canvas
As we move through the eastern part of the state and edge toward New Mexico, the land is transforming. You can tell where the rain has been kind; the vegetation is shifting from sparse desert to lush, rolling plains. We passed through:
Seas of Grass: We went from saguaro cactus and creosote bushes to desert grasslands tall enough to bend in the wind.
Wildflowers: Vibrant splashes of yellow, deep blues, and every shade in between.
At every water stop, I’d catch up with the group to marvel at how much the landscape changes in just a few dozen miles. It’s a beautiful reminder that nature doesn’t just stay the same—it adapts, it grows, and it surprises you.
Our Resident “Coach”
If the landscape was the backdrop, Jeff was the star of the show today. There is a specific kind of wonder in watching someone do exactly what they were built to do.
I watched him sprint from the back of the pack, chasing down one rider after another. It’s never about the competition for Jeff; it’s about the pure, raw joy of tapping into his own strength. But his real strength showed up when he wasn’t pedaling.
Jeff has become the heartbeat of this team. He doesn’t just ask if someone needs help; if he sees a rider on the shoulder, he’s off his bike and his hands are moving. We’ve officially lost count of how many flats he’s fixed. Beyond the mechanics, he has this natural way of teaching—building confidence and giving advice that people actually hear. I think we might have to start calling him “Coach.”
The Road Ahead
Seeing the “logistical dance” of keeping a dozen cyclists hydrated and safe from the van has given me a new appreciation for this dream. It’s not the journey I expected for this week, and it’s certainly not the one I planned, but I am so deeply grateful to be here.
I’m taking it all in—the stunning vistas, the grit of the team, and the kindness of a mechanic who makes the road smoother for everyone he meets. Tomorrow is a new day, and I’m looking forward to whatever the horizon holds.
Cousins crossing into our 3rd state. Hello New Mexico!