Living Well With Diabetes

I’ve been on the road towards Alaska four days now. Here’s a summary of my rides so far:

• June 28 - Salt Lake City to Brigham City (67 miles)
• June 29 - Brigham City to Snowville (65 miles)
• June 30 - Snowville, Utah to Burley, Idaho (66 miles)
• July 1 - Burley, Idaho to Twin Falls, Idaho (43 miles)

In four days I’ve been able to learn some valuable lessons about bike touring.

1. Ya gotta keep drinking.
   I learned this one the hard way on the second day which was the day I rode from Brigham City to Snowville, Utah. Of course, with about 25 years of cycling in my background, I should know all about the “ya gotta keep drinking” rule, but somehow, it’s something I have to relearn every year and usually during my first ride in very hot weather. By the time I reached I-84 and the last 20 miles of riding to Snowville, I was cramping up pretty bad. I stopped at an exit to rest in the shade of the bridge and chugged an entire 20-ounce bottle of fruit juice. I sat there for the next twenty minutes or so, afraid to move for fear of bringing on another cramp. During that time, I pondered whether I was going to make it and, if I didn’t, how long it would be before anybody discovered me here. It was that thought that finally got me up and moving again. By then, the juice had done the trick. I was feeling much better — the cramping had subsided and my blood sugar was a safe, yet respectable 150. I basically coasted into Snowville and found a very nice campsite at the Lottie-Dell RV park. No internet access, but my computer did pick up a wireless network from the Flying J over a half mile away (think about that next time you set up a wireless network in your home!).
2. Ya gotta slow down.
   I’m so used to trying to go as fast as possible while riding. That’s what you do when you’re training. Except this tour is not training. The first day went pretty smoothly and I was filled with confidence as I left Brigham City on the second day, headed towards Snowville. I was going west on Highway 83, I had a tailwind, it was a cool, comfortable morning, and all those factors encouraged me to go too fast. I think that contributed to the hydration troubles I had. On the third day (Snowville, Utah to Burley, Idaho), I had to force myself to slow down. I set a maximum heart rate of 130 for myself and that helped. I think I went over that only once or twice during the day.
3. Get more than one opinion about a route.
   Last night, I needed some relief from the heat so I stayed in a motel in Burley. This morning, I had breakfast at the restaurant next to the motel. I asked the waitress what she knew of highway 30 from Burley to Twin Falls. She said it was “nice.” That was interesting to know, but extremely unhelpful. So I asked her what the terrain was like. She said “There are a lot of hills. You’ll be going up and down all day” and then she walked off. End of conversation, I guess. As I was checking out of the motel this morning, I asked the front desk attendant what she knew of highway 30. She said it was rural and I wouldn’t see much traffic on it except for the local farmers. Again, I had to ask about the terrain. “Oh, it’s pretty flat” and this leads me to my next rule of bike touring.
4. Ask a cyclist about a route.
   I admit, this isn’t always possible. The concept of “flat” vs. “hilly” is entirely different for a person who rides a bicycle. In the end, highway 30 between Burley and Twin Falls was neither hilly nor flat. It was what a cyclist would call “rollers.” It went up a little and then down a little. It wound around at the whim and convenience of whoever broke trail there first.
5. Consider the Interstate as a possible route.
   The Interstate is not always a bad choice for bike riding. Yesterday, when I woke up in Snowville, I had two possible routes to get to Burley, Idaho. One was a quiet, scenic road though the wilderness of southern Idaho. The other was I-84. The former was longer — about 20 miles longer — with more and steeper climbs and, most ominously, no known sources of water. The latter, the Interstate, had very generous shoulders, climbs that were mild (in this stretch, less than 4% grade), and regular rest stops and service stations. However, I must advise against the Sinclair service station at exit 245 because he charged me 20 cents to fill a water bottle with ice.
6. It’s not always good.
   One of the good things I like about bike touring is how it puts you in touch with the land — the scenery, the weather, the road, the smells, the wildlife. These are things you are not in touch with as you’re driving down the road in a car. On the road leading west out of Brigham City, for example, I saw a fox make its way across the road about 20 feet in front of me. It was rusty red with a huge bushy tail and it seemed unafraid of me as it trotted across the road. The flip side of that coin, however, is something else I saw that day. I had arrived at the interstate (I-84) after riding about 40 miles on Highway 83. I had taken a rest in the shade of the bridge. Curled up in the shade of one of the bridge supports was a dead border collie. It looked like it had curled up there to take a nap and had never woken up. In fact, I had to go over to it to be sure it wasn’t going to wake up. It was a very sad sight for me since Pat and I have a border collie of our own at home. I’m not sure what took this poor dog, but whatever it was, I hope it was quick.
7. It’s not always fun.
   I had two days in a row that were not much fun. My second day out, as I mentioned in one of my previous rules, was not much fun. The next day, which involved no cramping whatsoever, was not any fun either because I didn’t really feel up to riding as much as I did, but I had no choice — there were simply no other options that were any closer.
8. Stuff is gonna break.
   And if it’s going to break, it will probably break right away. For example, there’s my Dexcom continuous glucose monitor which I mentioned in my previous post. It’s still hanging in there, but I can tell something is not right with it. I’m not sure it’s the cable or the Dexcom unit itself, but it’s very sensitive about how the cable is connected to the unit. Unless I hold it just right, it won’t retrieve its calibration reading from the test meter. I’m gong to try to make it last until I get to Wilsonville and there I’ll call Dexcom to get some help with a replacement. Another thing that’s in the process of breaking is my Garmin GPS unit. It’s a model 705 which has a GPS combined with heart rate monitor and cyclometer all in one handlebar-mounted unit. It has started warning me of a low battery even though I know there’s a full charge. That’s kind of annoying, but now it has started shutting itself off in the middle of a ride. I can turn it back on and it works fine for a few more hours. That’s irritating, but now it has started to fail to recognize the maps built into it. When it did that for the first time yesterday, I turned it off for a few minutes and then turned it back on and the maps were available again. Very strange. This warrants a call to Garmin, I think, but again, I’m going to wait until I get closer to Wilsonville where I’ll have a couple days to deal with it.

Finally, here is a collection of photos from my rides during the last three days.

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First day on the road and already there’s a casualty in my equipment. Well, possibly a casualty. I’ll have to keep an eye on it. More on that later.

Today’s ride was 65 miles or so from home to the KOA in Perry, Utah (about 3 miles south of Brigham City). From here, I’m heading generally northwest, paralleling I-84 towards Boise, Idaho. From there I’m cutting across Oregon. My target there is Wilsonville, about 30 minutes south of Portland, where my friends Jane and Dick run a company called iSense. Here’s a map of my route to Wilsonville:

(Click on the map to see a larger version.)

I’ll be dropping in at iSense to say hi and park my bike, even if just for a minute, in the bike rack they installed outside their facility. If it were just your average everyday bike rack, I wouldn’t bother. But, this isn’t just any old bike rack. Above the rack there’s a plaque that reads “Reserved for Peter Hoogenboom.” Who wouldn’t want to ride to Wilsonville and park in it? You can read more about this bike rack and why it has my name attached to it my my posting Visiting Friends in Portland, Oregon.

So, now, about that casualty. It’s my Dexcom continuous glucose monitor. It requires that I calibrate it at least once every 12 hours with a standard glucose test meter. I had inserted a new sensor just before leaving Salt Lake City this morning. Two hours later, it asked for it’s initial two glucose readings (it always asks for two readings on the initial calibration after a new sensor insertion). No problem. Around lunchtime today, I tested again and provided it with another calibration reading (I find it gives me better readings the more often I calibrate). This time, the Dexcom couldn’t retrieve a reading from the test meter. They both seem to recognize each other’s presense, but the Dexcom can’t retrieve the meter’s readings. It sits there draining the battery trying to get something and eventually gives up with an alert. I’ve found, however, that if I insert the plug into the Dexcom gently, it will work. I think I’ll keep that in mind, but I suspect I’m looking at an intermittent failure that is probably only going to get worse. If it does, I’ll be shipping the Dexcom and all its peripheral equipment (charger, extra sensors, test meter) home.

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In eleven hours, I’ll be on the road towards Alaska. After nearly half a year of thinking, pondering, and planning this thing, it’s finally time to lace up the shoes, clip in and go.

But first, there’s a ton of last-minute things to do tonight in preparation for departure tomorrow. First on my agenda was to locate my pocket knife. It’s a nice, basic Swiss Army knife I’ve had for years. I had it out on dresser a week ago or so and now it’s disappeared. I’ve been looking for it for the last three days and I am really stumped as to where it is.

I was whining about all of this to my neighbor Paul the other day and and also when I saw him at the coffee shop this morning. Well, I was just about to hop in the car this evening to go buy myself a replacement pocket knife when Paul knocks on the front door. In his hand is a brand-new Swiss Army knife almost identical to the one I lost. What a great guy and what a great send-off gift! Actually, it had a few tools on it that my missing knife didn’t have — scissors, tweezers, a package hook (whatever that is) not to mention knife blades that are much, much sharper than the ones I’m used to. I’m going to have be be careful.

Also on my agenda tonight is to pack all my gear up. Actually, I packed last night to make sure everything fit. It did and it actually came in about 48 pounds. I unpacked again tonight so I could post a photo here of all the gear I’m taking. Laid out like it is in the photo, it’s hard to believe it all fits into my four panniers (approx. 5300 cubic inches). But, there it is.

And these are the panniers it all has to fit into.

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When I submitted my post, One Week and counting, I had intended to start writing daily entries. I thought it might be interesting to have a countdown of the last days — the planning, the training — before my departure.

Well, clearly, I was not able to fulfill that goal. What prevented me from achieving that goal was also my single most time-consuming activity in the past few months: a creative writing class. Last October, before I ever had the idea of riding my bicycle to Alaska this summer, I signed up for an independent study creative writing class. It has been finishing that class that has taken up nearly all of my spare time since early March.

Since the class was offered as an independent study course through the Continuing Education department at the University of Utah, I was able to work through this class at my own pace. I had no classes to attend, but I had quite a bit of reading and writing to do over the past eight months. I would do the assigned readings, prepare the written homeworks, and then hand them in at the Continuing Education office. A week to two weeks later, my graded homework would show up in my mailbox. I never met the instructor or the grader for this course. My college days are a distant, fading memory for me, but I do believe I worked harder at this course than any other course in all my years of undergraduate and graduate studies.

So, I handed in my final project yesterday! Just in the nick of time, I finished it. Pat will have to mail me the graded final project when it arrives from the grader.

Last night, since I didn’t have any writing to do for my class, I was able to spend the entire evening getting together all of the gear I’ll be taking with me on the bike tour. It’s all laid out in a spare bedroom in the basement. It doesn’t look like a lot, but I know from the three-day tour I took a couple weeks ago that I’ll have some difficulty fitting it all into the four panniers. I have about 5300 cubic inches of storage in the panniers themselves, plus the top of the rear rack which is where I’ll strap on my sleeping bag and tent. Tonight’s goal is to experiment with packing it all up in such a way as to provide a balanced load, front-to-back and side-to-side.

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One week from today, I’ll be climbing on my bike and headed for Alaska.

Much has happened since I started planning this trip back in February and this trip is not what I had envisioned when I first wrote about it back on March 31. Still, I’m looking forward to getting started and a lot of work has gone into getting ready for this two month long adventure.

Willie Weir, a life-long bicycling tourist, and now a columnist for Adventure Cyclist Magazine, writes in his article Liftoff (you can read it online) that the space shuttle burns 90% of its fuel in the first eight and a half minutes of flight. His point was that it takes a huge amount of energy to overcome the pull of gravity. He goes on to talk about how this is true in bicycle touring too — it’s very difficult to overcome the pull of home.

I completely agree with Willie. I remember how much work it took to get Pat and myself on the road for our 48-state Dream Tour back in 2006. I also remember a huge sigh of relief once we got on the road because it meant all the work and planning was done and was successful. All I had left to do was ride my bike 10,000 miles and that seemed simple and straightforward compared to all the planning.

Much of the same kind of work and planning has gone into this tour. It has been made simpler in that no house and pet sitter is needed for this tour. Much to my disappointment, Pat has decided to sit this one out. She’ll be tending to things at home and will not be joining me in Bellingham, Washington like I originally planned.

But, the planning for this tour has also been more difficult because this is a self-supported tour. In the Dream Tour, I had a support van and the weight of gear such as a laptop or cooler or tent wasn’t a big concern. On this tour, all gear choices come with serious consideration of its weight. I spent an entire afternoon debating whether to bring a large tube of toothpaste (4.2 ounces) which is enough for the entire trip or to bring a travel-size tube (about 1 ounce, but much more expensive) and then have to purchase more along the way. (The travel-size won.)

Last week, I took a three-day bicycle tour to Brigham City, Utah for the Utah Tour de Cure fundraising bicycle ride. It was an excellent opportunity for me to try out riding with all my gear for three days. For the trip to Brigham City, I had 48 pounds of gear, but I think when I leave next week, I’ll have something closer to 52 pounds of gear. So, you can see why I take the weight of things very seriously.

Another difference in the planning for the Dream Tour and the planning for this tour is my job. For the Dream Tour, I took almost the entire year as a leave of absence. I had nearly two months prior to departure when I dedicated my time to planning (and training) for the upcoming tour. This tour, on the other hand, I’m working full-time right up until the day before I leave. That has made for a very busy spring.

There is one more detail about the trip that is different than I had originally planned. Instead of going only to Juneau, I’ll be spending a few days in Juneau and then going to Sitka, Alaska for three days. My good friend Dave Nevins lives there and he’s organizing a event in the evening of August 2 for one of the local diabetes support groups. I’ve been invited to come and speak at that event. I’ll be able to say a few words about The Dream Tour and I’m sure I’ll have a few pictures to show and stories to tell from my journey to get there.

For the next couple months, I’m going to try to make regular postings on this web site. How well I succeed at that depends mostly on how often I have internet access. I’m bringing a small laptop with me (2.2 pounds!), but I will be relying on hotels, campgrounds, coffee shops, public libraries, etc. for my internet access.

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