Reflection

Edit: This blog documents my 2010 cycle across america tour. If you enjoy this you may be interested in also reading my 2012 tour across Europe, USA and NZ which resides here.

If you are planning a TransAm cycle tour of your own and have any questions you can contact me via ryando@gmail.com, alternatively add me on

I’ve been home a couple of weeks now catching up with friends and ready to start work again next week. Whilst I’ve been back most people have asked me similar sorts of questions about the trip so let me start by giving you my brief overview of the ride.

Number of States: 10

Favourite state: Montana (Friendliest people, best scenery and some nice long bike paths.)

Least favourite state: Colorado (The state I was most looking forward too let me down. Don’t get me wrong, there were some incredible towns and great days riding but the town of Hot Sulphur Springs, the horrid Colorado cop from Day 47 and the terrible roads from state line to state line let it down.)

Number of flat tyres: 2 in Kentucky and 1 in Montana.

Number of broken spokes: 6…I think, genuinely lost count!

People I met on the road (in order): Cooper, Terry, Joe, Eli, Wim, Jessica, Stefaan, Sieman.

Total miles: 4,500 (after riding to the festival in Portland and back I was just shy of this so I rode around the city a little more until it was on the dot).

So since my last post when I officially finished my ride me and Wim spent several days staying with Stefaan and Tara riding into Portland several times before going to a music festival which we rode about 30 miles each way to get too, didn’t seem like much after crossing the country. When we returned to Stefaan’s after the weekend of music, food and beer it was time to say goodbye to Wim whose journey now continues for a couple more months. I was left with a day to then say my goodbyes to Portland before flying home myself.

The flight back across the US was humbling taking only 4-5 hours to in a plane. I had a long layover for my flight back to Manchester so spent the day outside in the incredible humidity which I hadn’t experience since back in Missouri. Arriving back in the UK it was strange to hear the accents again, the buildings, the vehicles, everything seemed so alien but obviously so familiar.

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Pickathon 2010

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Back to Portland

Stefaan & Tara

Thinking back to earlier parts of the trip feels like a lifetime ago. The people I met and the towns I went through almost feel like surreal parts to the story. I have the pictures and the vague memories but because everyday was a long adventure I will need to read through my own blog just to refresh myself.

If you are thinking about doing this trip I can’t recommend it enough. It will take far more commitment, sacrifice and a general positive attitude than physical strength to complete. I hadn’t cycle toured before and turned up not knowing what to expect. Having read blogs similar to mine I had an idea of what I would encounter but once I was out there the experience was completely different. This partly explains why I have found it very difficult to relay stories to people back home. Its impossible. If you haven’t experienced bicycle travel before there are so many elements that you will miss in the stories.

I’ve travelled the US by car and it was great and will know doubt do it again, but seeing a country by bike is so much more engrossing. For a start your outside 24/7 at people level which means you are always speaking and interacting with locals and most people that pass rather than been switched off in a car with your music, pointing as you fly past a nice landscape. Averaging around 12mph on a bike you not only get the spectacular sights, but you have time to study them, feel them as your ride through, hear the sounds from the forest and roadside as you pass and smell the flowers, trees and towns you go by. People in cars don’t speak to each other. Cyclists come across as vulnerable and non-threatening to locals which I believe explains how much good fortune and great hospitality I received over the course of the ride.

I would finally like to thank everyone of those people who helped me out or offered me food and a place to stay. The generosity of American people was probably the thing people commented about the most over the course of the blog. I’m certain if I started the trip all over again I would encounter the same kind people over and over again, it happened so frequently and other riders shared the same experiences it was impossible to be coincidence.

Its very easy to settle back into regular life, unfortunately I can’t just live on the road forever and I’m actually really looking forward to working and programming again once I’m home. I’m just glad I took the leap and went for it because I got to experience a level of freedom and adventure that most will never have the chance too. I had thought about the ride for years before doing it and now I will remember it everyday for the rest of my life. I may not seem to have changed too much in person, but inside I feel strong and content with my accomplishment. In the first few days of riding I was still doubting myself, now I know I can probably do anything if I really want too. Thanks for taking the time to read, this will be my final post but I will check back from time to time to see any new comments and probably in a few months to sit down and read through myself!

Remember, take chances.

Ryan Anderson

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Old Ryan looking ruined just a few days into the ride.

New Ryan feeling unstoppable somewhere in Montana

Until next time, goodbye!

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I’d been home a couple of weeks by the time I sat down to write this, catching up with friends, half-dreading the return to a desk on Monday. Everyone asked more or less the same questions, so here’s the short version first, the numbers people always want.

Ten states, coast to coast. Montana was the one that stayed with me most — the friendliest people, the best scenery, long stretches of quiet bike path that felt like they’d been built just for you. Colorado, the state I’d been most excited for, let me down more than any other; there were incredible towns in there and some of the best riding of the whole trip, but Hot Sulphur Springs, a genuinely unpleasant run-in with a Colorado cop on Day 47, and roads that stayed rough from one state line to the other took the shine off it. Two flat tyres in Kentucky, one more in Montana. Six broken spokes, or thereabouts — I genuinely lost count somewhere along the way. And the people, roughly in the order I met them: Cooper, Terry, Joe, Eli, Wim, Jessica, Stefaan, Siemen. Four thousand five hundred miles total, near enough — I came up just short after riding to the festival and back in Portland, so I looped around the city a bit more until the number sat right on the dot.

After the ride officially ended, me and Wim stayed on with Stefaan and Tara a few more days, riding into Portland more than once and out to a music festival roughly thirty miles each way — a distance that, after crossing an entire country, barely registered. When the weekend of music and food and beer wound down it was time to say goodbye to Wim, whose own trip still had a couple more months left in it. I had one more day to say goodbye to Portland myself before flying home.

The flight back across the same ground that had taken me two and a half months took four or five hours. I killed a long layover sitting outside in humidity I hadn’t felt since Missouri, then landed back in the UK to accents, buildings, and cars that all felt strange and completely familiar at once.

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Looking back now, the early parts of the trip already feel like somebody else’s story. The people, the towns — I have the photographs and a handful of vague, warm memories, but every single day out there was its own long adventure, and I suspect I’ll need to sit down and read my own blog just to remember all of it properly.

If you’re thinking about doing something like this, do it. It asks far more of your commitment, your willingness to sacrifice comfort, and your general attitude than it ever asks of your legs. I’d never toured before I left, and no amount of reading other people’s blogs beforehand prepared me for what it actually felt like once I was out there — which is probably why I’ve found it so hard to explain to anyone back home. You can’t, really. There’s no way to hand someone the parts of it that only make sense from a saddle.

I’ve seen this country by car too, and I’ll do it again someday, but seeing it by bike is a different order of experience entirely. You’re outside all day, every day, at eye level with everyone you pass, which means you’re constantly talking to people instead of sealed off behind glass with the radio on. At twelve miles an hour you don’t just see the landscape, you have time to actually feel it — the sounds coming out of the trees, the smell of a town before you’re even in it. People in cars don’t talk to each other. But a cyclist, loaded down and clearly a long way from home, reads as harmless to almost everyone he meets, and I think that’s the real reason I was shown so much kindness along the way.

I want to thank every single person who fed me, sheltered me, or simply stopped to talk. If there was one thing people commented on more than anything else reading along, it was the generosity of strangers, and I believe it completely — I’m certain that if I rode the exact same route again tomorrow, I’d meet the same kind of people all over again. It happened too often, and too many other riders told me the same stories, for it to be coincidence.

It’s remarkably easy to slide back into ordinary life. I can’t live on the road forever, and if I’m honest, I’m genuinely looking forward to working and writing code again. But I’m glad, more than anything, that I took the leap — I got a taste of a kind of freedom most people never get the chance to feel. I thought about this ride for years before I ever did it, and now I’ll carry it with me for the rest of my life. I don’t think I look much different to anyone back home. But something in me feels sturdier than it did in Yorktown. In those first few days I was still doubting whether I could actually do this. Now I know that if I want something badly enough, I probably can.

Thanks for reading along. This is the last post, though I’ll still check back now and then for comments, and no doubt I’ll sit down myself in a few months and read the whole thing through properly.

Remember, take chances.

Ryan Anderson

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5 comments from 2010

Chris Douglass3 Sept 2010

End of an era :( Thanks for giving me an excellent read all summer :) x

Ayrezy3 Sept 2010

You're a real inspiration and a true hero! P.s you need a picture of the New Ryan complete with badass beard!

The Belgian Axe Slaughterer4 Sept 2010

Way to go! Nice final comments and all the best with your new job! See you somewhere sometime later ... W from ... San Francisco!

Kerry Katona4 Sept 2010

mum4 Sept 2010

excellent end to your blog,will miss reading it, you want it to go on & on like a good book. good luck in your new job son luv mum xxx

73 days, one line across the country

5 comments from 2010