Building with Habitat, Part 2

If you read my earlier post titled Staple Guns and Flat Tires, then you read about my first build day with Habitat for Humanity of Missoula. Each Bike & Build participant is required to complete 10 hours of sweat equity on an affordable housing build site before the start of the trip. Today I took the day off work to finish my sweat equity hours on the same build site that I worked on previously.

The first time I built with Habitat of Missoula, I jumped in with a service club of young college students. This time around I was with a more "seasoned" group of regulars from local Lutheran churches. Clad with their tool-belts and work boots, I could tell they had been building houses for years (a LOT of years). This was Fritz's 17th Habitat house, Ingrid's 16th, Martin's 14th, and so on. I felt a little naive and inexperienced, to say the least. Nonetheless, they worked patiently with me and showed me the ropes on an array of new power tools to add to my resume - hand saw, miter saw, table saw, air nail gun, air staple gun. I tried to play it cool any time they handed me one of these death toys, but inside I was both incredibly nervous and giddy. By the end of the day I was tooling around like a pro.

Check out the progress made on the house!

Habitat house on Saturday, May 3

Habitat house on Wednesday, May 28

Last time I was at the build site, it was one-story and empty on the inside. Now there were not only two stories, but all kinds of framing, rafters, ceiling supports, flights of stairs and more.  One of the old-timers walked me through the layout, and I could see the house becoming a home right before my eyes. Coincidentally, this home was featured on the front page of the local newspaper that very morning. Check it out here:

Habitat for Humanity of Missoula Newspaper Article

Every Bike & Builder gets to designate a $500 grant to the affordable housing organization of his/her choice, and mine will be going to Habitat of Missoula. I wish I had gotten involved with this organization before moving away from Missoula, but the good news is the Habitat for Humanity of Flathead Valley does housing projects around Whitefish, where I'll be living after the trip.

This summer, we will have 14 Build Days in 13 different cities and towns along our route.

Jun 19 - Portland, ME
Jun 23 - Fitchburg, MA
Jun 26 - Pittsfield, MA
Jul 8 - Columbus, OH
Jul 9 - Columbus, OH
Jul 11 - Dayton, OH
Jul 17 - St Louis, MO
Jul 21 - Springfield, MO
Jul 25 - Tulsa, OK
Jul 31 - Amarillo, TX
Aug 11 - Payson, AZ
Aug 14 - Flagstaff, AZ
Aug 18 - Williams, AZ
Aug 27 - Palmdale, CA

Father-Daughter Q & A

At the prompting of my dad - a freelance writer, former blogger, and occasional biker - I have a handful of questions to answer. Seeing as my dad probably makes up 99% of my readership, I need to keep my audience satisfied. 

As the start time gets closer, how are you training?

Well, tomorrow I launch off for a 5-day trip on the Smith River, during which I’ll be nowhere near a bike, a gym, or civilization in general. I’ll do some fly fishing, drink beer, and stuff myself with elk steak fajitas and Dutch oven pineapple upside-down cake after a hard day’s work. I guess that’s one way to train. On the other hand, when I’m not booze cruising down a Montana river, I’ve been biking an average of 80 miles a week. That generally includes 2-3 rides of 15-25 miles during the week and a longer ride on the weekend. It turns out, long-distance bike training takes a lot of time, so I try to squeeze in rides before work, after work, or on the way to and from work when that’s the best my schedule will allow. I’m also training myself to properly eat and hydrate after my rides by voraciously packing in post-ride calories and keeping a fridge stocked with Doublehaul and Coldsmoke.

What are you thinking will be the hardest part of the ride?

We have a 119 mile day from Parker, AZ to Twentynine Palms, CA at the end of August. That many miles through the desert in August sounds hard, to say the least. I’ve also heard that there’s some wicked (note the New England lingo) hill climbs in the first week or two in the northeast where they apparently don’t believe in switchbacks. That could be tough. I think the most challenging days will be the most rewarding in the end, so I’m sadistically looking forward to it. Mentally, I think the hardest part of the trip will be after the ride when I’ll just want to shower, eat, and go to sleep but instead will have leader responsibilities to fulfill. Being away from close friends and family will be hard emotionally - all the more reason for you to write/text/follow me when I'm on the road!

What inspired you to do this?

The idea to cross the country by bike first entered my mind when my high school boyfriend did it one summer. It sounded impossible but oddly intriguing. Then I found myself with this opportunity in between jobs and homes to just do it. I found Bike & Build at the suggestion of a friend and loved the idea of biking cross-country for a cause. Now here I am a month away from it actually happening. I think this will be the first of many bike tours to come.

Were any books or stories or personal experiences especially motivational?

The most motivational personal experience by far was a weekend bike trip I took through central Italy with two friends when studying abroad there in 2007. None of us had much riding experience or knew the language, but we just took off one weekend and biked from Perugia to Foligno, stayed the night in a hostel, and biked back via Assisi. It was across the winding back roads, quiet vineyards, and shimmering olive groves of the Umbrian countryside that I had my first tantalizing taste of adventure cycling. I remember flying down a hill into the town of Spello, singing opera at the top of my lungs and feeling more alive than ever. That had me hooked.

How do you pump yourself up when you get tired and want to rest (or quit)?

When I get tired and want to rest, I usually stop and take a rest. I love to get into a rhythm and bike 15-25 miles before taking a break, but I think resting is key to not getting bored or burnt out on long rides. When I want to quit on a hill, I usually get out of the saddle for a while to boost my speed and reenergize my legs. Sometimes I just sing a few lines of a song or nursery rhyme over and over again, or I start counting pedal strokes until I reach 100 and then start over. That’s when I know I’m really desperate.

On long rides do you watch mile markers (if there are any) or try to ignore them?

Ignore them. Always. I’ll even divert my eyes when I see a little green mile marker on the horizon.

Will you and other riders wear headphones or is it best to have your ears wide open?

We will not wear headphones or have portable speakers of any kind. This is a Bike & Build policy and a pretty solid rule of thumb when biking or even just walking on the sidewalk. I will admit to busting out my Jammypack (fanny pack with portable speakers) when I’m going for long rides, but only if I am on a bike path, never on the road.

Is it easier to ride with a big group like this?

There are pros and cons. Even within our group of 35, we will only ride in groups of about 2-6 and keep a safe distance between ourselves until we're more comfortable with pacelining to draft off each other. I like group riding because it gives you someone to talk with and share the experience. Fellow riders can serve as a support and distraction from the mileage and soreness the ride may entail. Group energy also fuels my sense of camaraderie (and competition), pushing me to ride faster and farther than I might on my own.
 On the other hand, group riding can have its setbacks. It adds more hazards, with people in front of, behind, and sometimes next to you. Group riding definitely requires more awareness of those around you to avoid any sudden stops, swerves or collisions. It requires good communication, like pointing to and calling out any obstacles in the road, changes in direction or speed. This is why our group will have a practice "shakedown" ride and intensive bike skills/safety training before hitting the road together. 

Thanks for the questions, Dad. If the other 1% of you reading this have similar prompts or content ideas you'd like to see, don't hesitate to share them with me in a comment or an email. 

Biking with pops on the Greenline

Stoked for STOKR

Before reading this blog post, have you subscribed to my blog yet using the e-mail application on the right side of the screen? What are you waiting for?!

STOKR Day 1 ride in BLUE and Day 2 ride in RED

Now on to the good stuff…

STOKR, or the Scenic Tour of the Kootenai River, is a two-day, 135-mile bike ride around the Libby area in NW Montana to benefit the Kootenai Valley Habitat for Humanity. This weekend was the 20^th annual STOKR, and I fortunately got to be a part of it. The ride is open to a limited number of registrants (a record 475 this year), and Dylan and I found out in March that we were selected in the lottery-style drawing.  I was stoked – until I hurt my ankle a few weeks later and wasn’t sure I’d be ready in time for the 98-mile Saturday marathon followed by a 37-mile Sunday cruise. Nonetheless, I squeezed in as much training as I could once my ankle healed and hoped for the best. What I got was better than I could have imagined.

Day one started on a brisk, overcast morning with 475 neon-clad cyclists, most of whom appeared a bit more “seasoned” than Dylan and I, both in terms of experience and age. This would be our longest ride by far, with neither of us bagging more than 60 miles in a day.  We started towards the back of the pack to avoid getting trampled by these veteran cyclists, or worse – getting caught in a situation where we had to unclip quickly and risk toppling right over. Once the crowd thinned, we settled comfortably into our place towards the back of the pack.  Seventeen miles of rolling hills alongside the Kootenai River warmed us up for the ride until our first food stop at a church, complete with bagels, fruit, and sugar cookies.

Scenic touring along the Kootenai River with Dylan

I quickly came to realize that scenic bike tours are more like progressive dinners, minus the cocktails and add 100 miles and a few hundred bikes. Every 15-20 miles we came across another much-anticipated food stop – pasta, soup and subs, and, everyone’s favorite, the pie stop. Coupled with being completely enamored by the scenery, I found myself thinking more about the upcoming food stop and less about the amount of miles ahead of me. We’d ride another 22 miles, take a picture at Yaak Falls, and then have some pasta salad and a few more cookies. Ride another 20 miles along groves of cedar trees, soak up the sunshine that came out, and enjoy homemade salmon chowder and brownies in the town of Yaak. It wasn’t until I saw that someone had yaak-ed their pasta along the side of the road that I realized I should probably pace myself, in terms of eating, that is. Before I knew it, we were up and over the dreaded 12-mile “big ass hill” that I’d been dreading and on the downhill side towards the pie stop at mile 80.

Pie stop at mile 80

Pie stop. A stop just for pie. There are no two words you’d rather hear when you’re 80 miles into a ride. And to put the icing on the cake (or the whipped cream on the pie, which we did), the stop took place at a lovely farmhouse surrounded by meadows and a babbling brook. Upon walking inside the creaky screen door, an entire table full of pies – blueberry, peach, apple, sweet potato – greeted us. I felt like I had died and gone to some kind of bike ride heaven. Distracted by the homemade goodness, I had forgotten about any tiredness in my legs, soreness in my butt or concern about my ability to complete the ride.  I was eating blueberry pie while sitting next to a log fire, feeling the warmth of the sun on my face and hearing the trickle of the creek by my side. Could it get any better?

The answer was yes, because next came the satisfaction of finishing the ride. Eager to achieve my first century ride, I rode around neighborhoods and school parking lots to call it an even 100. Completing a century was more of an accomplishment for my mental training for Bike & Build than my physical training. We’ve got eight 90+ mile days planned this summer, including 3 back-to-back and a 110 mile day in the desert in August. Confident that I can ride 100 miles without feeling nervous or overwhelmed, I can now go into those longer rides better able to support my riders and the trip as a whole. Of course, it might be a little different when there isn’t a pie stop (although we are stopping in a place called Pie Town, NM).

Views of and from the Libby Dam

Day 2 of STOKR was no less fun and filling than the first. With fewer miles to ride (37 total), we got started an hour later and with about half as many riders. The route took us NE along the Kootenai River on a puddle-filled, secluded road. There was new snow on the mountains not far above, and the songbirds were belting their tunes after the fresh spring rain. We later found out that there was four inches of snow on the pass we had summited yesterday. Crossing the Kootenai and climbing up the highway, we reached our destination for the day – the Libby Dam. Controlling flows from Lake Koocanusa into the Kootenai River, the dam is normally closed to pedestrian traffic. Rangers at the gate checked our names on a list and let us through the gate to walk our bikes across and enjoy the stunning views. On the other side we were welcomed by trays upon trays of cinnamon rolls. After gobbling up a few and walking around the visitor center, we let gravity do the worked as we rolled down the other side of the river and back towards Libby. The snow-capped Cabinet mountains welcomed us back into town, and when we arrived at the finish there was none other than leftover pie there to greet us. Not wanting to be rude by rejecting the endless hospitality of the locals, we each gobbled up another piece.

Bike. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. Now there’s a routine I can get used to, in addition to the extra 5,000 calories or so I’ll get to consume every day this summer. This weekend at STOKR not only revealed to me some of the secrets of long-distance cycling (take plenty of breaks, eat lots of food, and enjoy the scenery), but it also reinforced that being on a bike all day is something that makes me very happy. Whether or not there is pie waiting for me at the end of the day this summer, I will look forward to the unmatched sense of satisfaction that comes from making it from point A to point B on a bike.

Kootenai Falls and swinging bridge

Staple Guns and Flat Tires

On the Habitat build site with Rotaract

Every Bike & Builder is required to do at least 10 hours of sweat equity on an affordable housing construction site before their trip, so this weekend I had my first build day with Habitat for Humanity of Missoula. They squeezed me in for a morning shift with a group called Rotaract, a Rotary-sponsored service club for young adults. The group of UM college students had recently completed a month of “flocking” – covering people's front yards with plastic pink flamingos – to raise money for the Make-A-Wish Foundation, and they did not hesitate to welcome me into their own flock.

The house all wrapped up in Weathermate

After a brief safety spiel (summary: don’t do a job that makes you uncomfortable, wear a hard hat when working under someone) we broke into smaller groups to complete two projects – constructing railings for the second floor build operation and wrapping the house with weather guard. I opted for the latter (pun intended), which entailed wrapping the house “nice and tight like a Mother’s Day present,” as the site manager described it. I got to spend a fair amount of my time on a ladder swinging a heavy-duty staple gun hammer tacker, a tool that would make my office tasks a lot more exciting. I became very familiar with un-jamming the staple guns with a pair of pliers, a frequent occurrence that slowed our progress a bit. Nonetheless, by lunchtime we had wrapped all but one section of one side of the house.

In addition to meeting the Rotaract group, I got to work side-by-side with two soon-to-be Habitat homeowners, including the one whose house we were building. A teacher and mother of two, her previous rental unit had been rendered unlivable in the Missoula avalanche this February that buried three people and took one person’s life. She had been accepted into the program before the avalanche, which proved to be quite fortunate for her and her children. I’ll be building with Habitat again in late May and am hoping it will be at the same site so I can witness the progress on the house. I hadn’t been on a home construction site since a college service trip to the Gulf Coast after Katrina, and I found the experience to be just as rewarding and enjoyable as I remembered and hoped for.

Flat tire fail

After the build, I joined up with a former Bike & Build leader named Liz who was in town for the weekend and totally DTR (Down To Ride). In fact, she was the alumni who I did my alumni interview with when I was going through the leader application process. Planning to ride 65 miles, Liz and I headed down the Bitterroot bike path on a perfectly warm, calm and overcast afternoon. Just a few miles short of our turnaround point, I blew a flat and found a tack stuck through my tire and puncturing my tube. No big deal – had I not accidentally left my spare tube and patch kit in a different bag in my car. That’s something I’ll only do once. I hopped on the good bike and rode 8 miles down to the nearest town with a store that had spare tubes. After hitchhiking a ride with a lovely woman who let me throw my bike in the back of her truck, I arrived triumphantly back at the spot where Liz waited with my bike. Then I realized I had bought the wrong size tube and we were back at square one. Also a mistake I'll only make once. With a two-hour ride back to the car and daylight dwindling, I ended up calling my friend Leah to come rescue us. While we waited, Liz and I chatted about all things Bike & Build, and I found the experience to be good practice for the summer ahead – be prepared for anything, stay cool when stuff goes wrong, and for god sake carry a spare tube.