Here's hoping...

"Usually when an asteroid is headed toward Earth, I'm not rooting for an impact." But "I think it'll be cool," said Don Yeomans, who heads the Near-Earth Object Program at NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory.

Don is referring to the potential impact of a football-sized asteroid with Mars, our second nearest heavenly neighbor. According to calculations, the impact would not affect earth, but would create a half-mile wide crater and release an amount of energy similar to the 1908 asteroid that struck Siberia, leveling 60 million trees. The current odds of impact are 4%. Keep your fingers crossed...

story

Who's keeping score, anyway?

A lot happens over the course of an ordinary year. I was fortunate to have an extraordinary year, and while there's no way I can/want to cover it all here and now, some type of retrospective seems - if only for me - desirable. To help it along, I'll use a lot of pictures and try to keep the stories short. Happy holidays to you all. I hope 2007 has been as good to you as it has been to me.

Wenceslas Square, Prague, where Joel, Rob and I rang in 2007. The start of this year was a stark contrast to the end of 2006, a year which culminated in my arrival and subsequent unhappy departure from southern France. For six weeks in the Czech Republic, I lived as a hedonist with my friends, traveling the country, eating dumplings, drinking beer by the liter, and chasing beautiful Czech women.

Cesky Krumlov, the place to visit in the Czech Repulblic (other than Prague, of course). This was probably my favorite trip during my stay in Czech.

Welcome to New Zealand. A view along one of my running routes above Blenheim, a small town in the Marlborough wine country. In short, this experience was what I sought but didn't find in France.

We called this the "press gallary;" I called it home for 4 months. During my stay in New Zealand, I spent most of my time working the night shift - 7pm - 7am, 7 days a week. They didn't pay overtime, but the relationships more than made up the difference. The sunrises weren't bad, either.

Our only "warm-up/training ride" before leaving Prague. Greg's choir was singing in a town about 100km north of Prague. I decided to ride up and see the show, meeting Greg that evening. The next day we attempted to ride back to Prague, but took a train instead (we had a softball game...). Later that night after showering, I cramped up so badly that I couldn't walk and had to go to bed at 8pm. Pretty sad.

The only way to see an empty Charles Bridge? Summer solstice, 4:55am. This was one of the highlights of my return to Prague. While it's a beautiful city any time of the year, summer is amazing. It's only dark for about 6 hours a day, beer gardens pop out outside of every restaurant bar and the city simply buzzes with energy (read as: is packed with tourists).

A common scene on our bike trip, Greg and I stopped daily at local pubs during our trip. They were a welcome relief after 8 hours of riding, but always seemed to make the last 15km pretty challenging. Add a pizza, and well, you get the idea...

Schönbrunn Palace, Vienna, Austria. Stunning opulence. This is what Prague lacks.

Bled Lake, Slovenia. It's more beautiful than it appears. For a small country, Slovenia really has it all. From this lake to the Julian Alps, down to the Adriatic sea and across to some of the largest caves in the world (not to mention the world's oldest producing grape vine!), Slovenia is more than worth a trip.

Catching a nap on the island of Hvar in Croatia. On this day, we caught a ferry from the mainland to the island, rode up up up through fields of lavender, and napped along the spine with views to the sea in all directions. It was Joel's first taste of the solitude Greg an I shared throughout much of our trip before Joel's arrival.

Mostar, Bosnia, and the New Old Bridge. It's still hard for me to reconcile the physical beauty and genuine kindness from the people of Bosnia with the blind hatred that ripped the country apart in the 1990s.

Mostar, Bosnia. In a town far less cosmopolitan than Sarajevo, scars of a war 13 years gone still dominate a town without the resources to rebuild. These are the constant reminders of a war that affected everyone, and will continue to do so for many more years.

Durmitor National Park, Montenegro. It was tough to pick a photo to represent this strategic and diverse country. The only uniformity came from the people who constantly went out of their way to help us in any way possible. From the coast to the fjord to the mountain markets and national parks, our four nights in Montenegro were some of the most challenging of our trip.

Sunset in Sarajevo, a city trying to heal. Our first night in town we got some local food and drink and hiked up the hill to watch the sun set across the long valley. Here, we were pushed, challenged, and humbled everyday. This was par for Bosnia.

Belgrade, Serbia, with Nikola and Marija. In what can only be described as the most unlikely rendezvous of our trip, Nikola and Marija - friends from Banja Luka - found us in Belgrade, 350km away. After saying goodbye only 30 hours previous, Nikola drove the distance with Marija in hopes of finding us in Skadarlija, the Bohemian part of town. Somehow, it worked.

Sofia, Bulgaria with John and Nancy. Our only real taste of "home" during our trip, John and Nancy welcomed us without knowing us (their son is a good friend of Greg), putting us up for three nights. We enjoyed speaking English, eating hamburgers, and driving in a car.

Bucharest, Romania. Ask Joel.

Wine tasting in Germany with Christian. I know Christian from New Zealand, and when I told him I'd be back in Prague, he offered to put us all up in his guest house for a week and drive us all across Germany's Rhine Valley, visiting the wineries of his family and friends. It was perhaps the epilogue to our trip, a time to decompress without bicycles or the constant concern of what we'd eat or drink or where we'd sleep. From this point, Joel, Greg and I would go our separate ways.

A return to the States, Aspen, Colorado. Coming home wasn't the easiest thing I've ever done. I'd become accustomed to life on the road and the constant change of place and pace. Signing a lease and taking a permanent job, along with seeing a girl for a while threw me for a loop and kept life moving pretty quickly. It's great to be back with friends and closer to family again, but I know now that I must find a way to support the life I love, a life of travel. More on that in 2008...

By the numbers:

13,000: Miles traveled from Prague to Blenheim, New Zealand, where I lived.
44: Contiguous hours I spent traveling from Prague to Auckland.
10: Inches of snow on the ground when I left Prague.
13: Longest single flight during my trip, in hours.
3.5: Movies I watched during that flight.
2: Hours after landing in Auckland before I was surfing in the Pacific
1: Car accident in New Zealand.


3200: Approximate number of kilometers Greg, Joel and I each rode last summer.
60: Number of days it took us to ride that many kilometers.
114: Average temperature in degrees, Fahrenheit, during the daytime in Croatia.
180: Cost, in Euros, Joel and I forfeited for an egregious lapse of judgment one
night in Budapest.
11: Countries visited during our trip.
2: Encounters with wildlife while camping that actually scared us.

Here's to 2008.

"Interim Nebraska AD Osborne fires Callahan"

It look less than 15 minutes, reports say. On a sunny Saturday morning, after leading Nebraska to two losing seasons out of his four coached at the university, Big Tom has sent Little Bill packing. Those two losing seasons were the first of their kind in more than 45 years for a football program that's fallen a long way during the last 10 years. And while many people believe the outcome of Friday's game could do nothing to change todays decision, Callahan didn't help his cause - even a little bit.

I witnessed Bill's last hoorah yesterday in Boulder. The game was covered on ABC, and to let you know the general sentiment, I saw people holding signs that read:

Adios
Bill
Callahan.

One of these signs was black and gold, the other red and white. I don't think very many people are upset about this one, including Callahan, who'll pick up a nice $3m + buyout for his troubles. Anyone interested in a new job?

...And I'm back.

My uncle just introduced me to Shelfari this weekend, and if you consider yourself much of a reader - or even just someone with a passing interest in books - you should think about joining. It's an online networking site that allows you to share the books you're reading/have read/want to read with your friends, family and anyone else who thinks books are neat. It's also a great place to find your next read. For example, if your name is Mike D, maybe you could expand your wholly liberal views on, well, everything, by picking up something by an author named Ayn Rand - just an idea.

And that's how it works. Here's my shelf.

I'll get back to you as soon as possible

My blogs don't usually get too deep into what's really happening in my life, and this one won't be much of an exception.

Last weekend, Jacque and I went hiking up Bear Creek Canyon (in Mt Falcon Park) in search of what we'd heard was an old Elk's Lodge up a side canyon. After negotiating Bear Creek and hiking for a few minutes, we came upon the remains of what was listed in Jefferson County's anthropological register of the park as nothing more than "an unfinished homestead or other building." That's not exactly the analysis for which we'd hoped, but nonetheless, we had a great time on a beautiful Sunday afternoon.



On Tuesday night, we saw Neil Young on his Chrome Dreams tour at the Wells Fargo Theater. It's an intimate 5,000 seat affair, but the sound quality was outstanding and Neil Young's doing alright, too. After seeing Bob Dylan a few times during the last five years, I expected a similar performance (old, decrepit, out-of-tune, unintelligible, difficulty moving on his own, etc.), but was blown away by his clarity - both physical and mental. The sets seemed to speak to my emotional state at the time - ah, the power of music.



set list

Yesterday I enjoyed my first "friendsgiving" with a few friends from college. Laura and Rachel, again, thanks. I'm sure everyone had a great time. Between flag football, guitar hero, beer pong and copious amounts of great food, how could you not? I'll be back next year...

It's snowing in Colorado. Well, that's not entirely true, but it has snowed - a lot. In fact, four ski resorts are already open; winter is upon us. This is only important to me because I haven't done much more than see snow from a distance for a long time. I've missed it...

Near Fremont Pass.

I've missed a lot during the past year or so, actually, and transitioning back to the "real world" has been a balancing act I sometimes feel like I'm struggling to master. Between a new job, a new female friend, and a strong desire to see and do everything, I find myself only making brief stops at my apartment to change clothes, pick up and/or drop off books, shower, and occasionally sleep. I wish I could pay rent based on actual occupancy time. I think it'd be about $54/month.

Step Out to fight diabetes.

I'd like to thank all of my friends and family who helped me raise money for the American Diabetes' Association's annual Step Out to fight Diabetes walk. I'd also like to thank the aforementioned "new female friend" - her name is Jacque - for showing and signing me up for the walk, as well as for supporting me by choosing to walk with me. It was a bittersweet event for me; at times I felt near tears, at others excited to be part of a fight to end something that's played an enormous role in my own life. Again, thanks to everyone who chose to support this cause.

Loveland Pass.

(Just an aside. I've received about 5 text messages while writing this blog reminding how great Nebraska's defense is playing this season. Thank you, I hadn't noticed. I think Big Tom is going to re-tool the Big Red after this season, and tackling may again become part of the agenda, right after he fires everyone on the coaching staff.)

We're not as tough as we look.

After the walk, Jacque and I headed west to Grand Junction on the western slope of Colorado to get out of the city, visit her aunt and uncle and hike around the Colorado National Monument. Between baseball and football games, we cooked Indian food and enjoyed being inside when the weather outside wasn't so hot. We finally made it onto the monument late Sunday as the skies cleared. It was cold but clear, crisp but beautiful. It was the first time I'd really been out of a city for a long time, and it was great.

Colorado National Monument.

We left Grand Junction Monday around noon and decided to take the long route back to Denver. Instead of traveling I-70, we headed south toward Aspen and the Maroon Bells, which were covered in snow after the weekend's weather. Independence Pass was (remarkably) still open, so we headed up and over and through a lot of snow. The sun was out but it was still well below freezing on the summit. Of course that didn't prevent us from taking a few pictures... We ate dinner that night at The Beau Jo's pizza in Idaho Springs. Just a recommendation, stay away from the gluten-free wheat crust. It ruins the pizza.

I'm just that happy to be at the Maroon Bells again.

At Jefferson County, I feel like I'm finally being paid to act like the 5-year-old boy I once was. This week we had bulldozer training and I spent an entire afternoon pushing dirt around a construction sight. The previous week I helped clear a clogged culvert with a backhoe. When we're not driving heavy machinery, we've been repairing some of the damaged trails and spending a lot of time outside - and it's been a great few weeks to spend outside.

World Series game 3. Photo courtesy of Andrew Schaefer and Schaefer Photography, LLC.

As some of you know, the Colorado Rockies made it to the World Series this year. While they didn't perform as well as anyone'd hoped, I was fortunate enough to attend the first World Series game in Coors Field history, thanks to my good friend Andrew Schaefer. Due to his flexible work schedule (he's a wedding photographer, if you know anyone getting married soon), he was able to sit in front of his computer for three hours one afternoon last week and get tickets to each of the scheduled three games in Denver. While the Rockies were swept from the Series, the experience was unmatched. Our seats allowed for wide-angle viewing of the game, which was exciting until Brian I-Don't-Ever-Want-to-Pitch-for-the-Colorado-Rockies-Again Fuentes did what he does best, which is not keeping a close game close. The loss was disappointing, but it was well worth the $101 ticket (yeah, Andy, I swear I'm good for the balance of my ticket. I get paid Monday.)

Plans are starting to come together for a trip to...


Check these guys out, they used to be the Refreshments. Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers.

Maroon Bells, mid-October.

In the name of national security.

In case you've managed to miss the last 3 weeks of life in America, the Colorado Rockies are currently putting together one of the best runs in recent sporting memory. They've won 17 or their last 18 baseball games, including a first-round playoff sweep of the Philadelphia Phillies, and are now about to begin the National League Championship Series against the Arizona Diamondbacks, a team they beat twice in three games two weeks ago. In Denver, the Broncos are experiencing unheard-of competition from a team that hasn't played an October game since 1995. People are Rockies crazy, almost instantly buying every available ticket to the upcoming home playoff games. A lot of it is bandwagon-ism, but I don't care. The excitement is palpable, and I'm happy to be a part of it.

The problem with our instant fanatics means tickets have become a luxury unfordable to most people. With this in mind, I'm suggesting we (Rockies fans) stop competing with one another and start buying seats in Phoenix. To attend two games in Denver, you're looking at spending around $300 per ticket to sit 35 rows behind the first base dugout (www.stubhub.com). That comes out to about $1250 for two people for two games. If you were to buy tickets to the first two games in Arizona to sit in the same area, you'd only be out $468. That's because Arizona's fans still haven't bought all available face-value tickets. You could fly round-trip for $614 (two people) and stay less than a mile from the ballpark for two nights for $360 at the Holiday Inn Express, which also has the benefit of making you feel smarter - which you probably are to take advantage of a Rockies playoff opportunity. They don't come often. Throw in around $200 for food - you're thrifty, shopping at the local market - and your total trip cost is about $1650 - only $400 more than seeing the game in Denver. Now, if you're lucky and have friends/family living in Phoenix and can cancel some of those hotel and food costs, you're in the black. It's cheaper to fly down to Phoenix for a couple of days, cheer the Rox on the road, and bask in the glory of the hottest team in baseball's incredible run.

From your Holiday Inn Express to Chase Field, only 0.9 miles.
View Larger Map

Unrelated: My place is coming together. If you decide to forgo the above travel itinerary and stay in Denver for the League Championship Series (and World Series?), consider this option.

Also unrelated: This morning I visited the Green Mountain Exempla Health Care Clinic for my pre-employment physical. Aside from being healthy enough to "eat a double cheeseburger," I also signed away my medical confidentialities in the name of national security. Under the section labeled "Special Situations," the clause shown below was listed.



Really? I'd like to know how my height, weight or blood pressure could possibly demarcate me as a risk to "the President, other authorized persons or foreign heads of state." "Hmmmm, he's 5'8", 151 lbs., and has yellow pee. We've got to get this son of a bitch!" I don't buy it.

The Wolverine

Most of you have figured this out by now, but I'm back in the states. I arrived in Omaha a couple of weeks ago after leaving Prague on a cool, wet morning. It seemed appropriate - the weather was nearly the same as when I first arrived nearly 8 months previous. During my intermittent visits, I'd seen rain, snow, naked trees and cold winds, early summer, green, crowds, more crowds, "all the sights," and again the cooling of the seasons; autumn. Sitting in my hostel the last day or so and watching the rain fall, I knew it was time to leave. New travelers came and went, full of the excitement of being in a city they'd never seen, I didn't feel that I was missing anything by staying warm and dry.

My family and a few friends still live in Omaha. I spent about a week there visiting, catching up and sharing stories. I also interviewed for a permanent job with Jefferson County's Department of Open Space for a job with their trail crew. I worked there last year before going abroad and while I like the work, I like the people more. It's a good place to work and it gives me the opportunity to live in Denver with my friends without being too far from home. Napa is a long way from Omaha.

It's been a busy week and a half since I arrived in Denver. Aside from seeing as many friends as possible, I've also been apartment shopping, and consequently, apartment-furnishing shopping. Right now I have a lot of clothes and some assorted sporting goods, but not much on which to sit or sleep. Two days ago - within about 45 minutes of one another - I received (and accepted) a job offer from JeffCo, and received (and accepted) a 1-bedroom apartment near Cheeseman Park. I move in on Monday. Things are going well.

My new address is:
1420 E 13th Ave # 9
Denver, CO 80218

View Larger Map
I will keep my PO Box, so if you're mailing stuff there, no need to stop.

I'll get a picture or two up when I move in next week, but if you're in the area, give me a call. New phone is 303-905-2750.

hmmmm

If you're having a resolution problem with the slideshow below, you can watch it directly by clicking here. Thanks

Watch this

Furthur – An Epilogue

Rhine River

Greg, Joel and I planned a trip to Germany this week to visit Christian, a friend I met in New Zealand, whose family owns a winery. We needed to relax and decompress a bit from the last two months on the bikes, and we figured drinking wine and sleeping in real beds was a good place to start. We caught an overnight bus from Prague to Frankfurt and a train on to Bad Kreuznach, where Christian met us on Monday morning.

Old Town Frankfurt.

Frankfurt

We only traveled a few hundred miles, but we might as well have boarded the magic time-travel bus into the future. Arriving in Germany, we were pleasantly reminded what it’s like to exist in the first world. I’m not saying Prague isn’t a great city – it is. But there’s something undeniably “eastern-European” about it. It’s a combination of characteristics (tangible or otherwise) that are present across the Czech Republic and down through the Balkans (uh-hmm, communism). So walking into a modern, clean, traveler-oriented train station was amazing. Automated ticket machines gave us the option to pay by credit card, customer service representatives weren’t sitting behind dirty glass windows with cigarettes hanging from their mouths, and smoking in designated areas was actually enforced. Things got off to a good start.

Famous vineyards on the Rhine.

With the last-minute change of plans, Christian didn’t get our email explaining that we’d arrive Monday morning rather than Monday afternoon. It wasn’t a problem, though, and we headed to Langenlonsheim, stopping for breakfast along the way. After a mean breakfast fry up (and naps), we set out with Christian and his girlfriend Julia for a tour of the Nahe wine region, which is near the Rhine River. The weather cleared up just in time for a relaxing afternoon drive through dozens of vineyards, and we had coffee overlooking the Rhine in the late afternoon sun.

Christian and Julia above the Rhine.

Wine tasting in Jacob's vineyard.

After dinner, Christian presented to us a selection of his family’s wines. Not adhering strictly to a tasting format, we drank the better part of 6 bottles that night. Christian has a degree in oenology and viticulture (winemaking and vine growing, respectively) and will be the winemaker at Clemens Honrath Winery (his family’s) when his father retires. Therefore, he was able to explain to us many characteristics about each wine, from the soil types of each vineyard, to the time each wine was in barrel, to the specific weather conditions each year that produced certain attributes in each bottle. It was the best wine tasting I’ve ever done because we were able to ask him anything without being made to feel stupid or un(der)educated. The wine is quite nice, too.

It would be difficult for Julia to look less interested.

The next two days were full of late mornings and visits to many of Christian’s friends’ wineries. We tasted and learned a lot, and it’s clear that Christian and his friends are passionate about what they do. That was reflected in their patience with us, the quality of the wines they produce, and their desire to continue to make a better product every year. Making good wine is a full-time, year-round job, and as Jacob said, he’d do it even if he wasn’t making money. The difference is that I believe him. Each of Christian’s friends welcomed us and made us feel at home, even helping Joel with his German.

Joel and Greg soak in the view.

Greg left on Thursday morning and Joel and I took some time to visit Bad Kreuznach. That evening the four of us made dinner and relaxed with a few more bottles of wine. Christian managed to outdo himself by presenting a Clemens Honrath 1982 noble-late-harvest sweet wine, a Reisling, from his personal library. He followed that with a 2001 Bordeaux blend (merlot, cab franc, cab sauv) from Robertson Winery in South Africa. Both of these wines were phenomenal, and Joel and I felt very fortunate to experience them with Christian. Seeing as it was nearly impossible to go up from there, we decided on a nightcap of a few German beers.

The future of Clemens Honrath Winery gains inspiration from the past.

And so I sit in Frankfurt waiting for a bus that will come shortly to take me back to Prague (again overnight). I spent the day walking around the city, most of which is really new, at least relative to many of the other places we’ve visited during the past couple of months. From the pictures I’ve seen, Frankfurt was leveled during WWII. The “old town” is nice but small, and much the city is now modern, lacking a “personal” feel. It looks more like Minneapolis than anything I’ve seen lately, complete with a big river running through the center of town. But my first trip to Germany has been a memorable one, and I hope to return.

Frankfurt's banking district.

Greg and Joel now gone, our trip is really over. It’s sinking in that I’ll be in the states in a few days, and I’m having mixed emotions about returning home. I’m excited to see my family and friends – it’s been too long. But this experiment – this experience, this past year – has been the best of my life. I’ve struggled with my own limits and been forced to change course more than once. I’ve made new friends, seen old places, and learned that you can never lose your “family.”

If you want some unsolicited advice (after buying property in Montenegro and visiting Bosnia, which I’ve already covered), get “out there.” “Out there” may be Peace Corps in Swaziland, it may be teaching English in Prague, or it may be making a decision that’s really for you, but it’s got to be uncomfortable, and it’s better if the odds are stacked against you. Take calculated risks. Don’t hesitate to try something that everyone tells you is crazy, and if you fail, fail well. Fail because you’ve given it all you’ve got, fail because you’ve run into a wall at full speed, fail because there’s no overtime and you chose to go for the win instead of the tie. But don’t fail because it’s too hard, too steep, or too long – for then you have truly failed. What’s more, you’ll probably succeed anyway - we’re smarter than we think and capable of more than we know. And that’s why I don’t want this to end.

This didn't make the cut from Belgrade. I know I'm acting like an 11-year old. It's still funny.

go furthur

And So It Ends...

Downtown Bucharest

We left Veliko Tarnovo and rode north toward the Romanian border, losing elevation as we approached the Danube River Valley. We arrived in Ruse at the end of another long, hot day, but this time with the added joy of humidity. So when we found a hotel room with air conditioning, we quickly settled up and bought some beer. Ruse doesn’t offer much, so we rested that night and crossed the Danube the following morning as we headed toward Bucharest.

The House of the People

Bucharest's own Arc de Triumph

Bucharest is a city still emerging from many years under a dictator with a “Western” complex. In some respects he succeeded; it’s at times Paris-esque (or so I’ve heard). The buildings lay along streets lined with trees and fountains. In fact, Nicolae Ceauşescu (the dictator) built one of his boulevards exactly (and intentionally) 6 meters longer than the Champs-Elysees in Paris. Bucharest has an Arc de Triumph situated in an enormous traffic circle, and in what is widely considered his cruelest urban planning effort, a Parliament building which required the bulldozing of 1/6 of the city’s area, displacing nearly 70,000 of it’s inhabitants. And he had the balls to call it “The House of the People.” Not kidding.

Cercul Militar Naţional

But for all the “westernized” areas of Bucharest, it is distinctly a product of years of communism. It’s thick and gray and sprawling. Furthermore, Romania falls exponentially behind progress with distance from its capital. Stray dogs are a problem country wide, along with poverty and gypsies, who are also known as Roma. Some studies show they are Indian in origin, but they’ve been around long enough to speak their own language and solidify their place as national “outcasts.” Often they live in their own communities at the edges of towns, and fierce nationalism across the Balkans has made their lives difficult.

"House of the People" from Ceauşescu's knock-off Champs-Elysees

Again

Our trip dynamic changed dramatically in Bucharest as Greg had to leave for Ljubljana, where he would meet his choir for a tour of Slovenia. That left Joel and I to explore the city in the heat and humidity. We tried to stay outside in the evenings, and we soon found ourselves on the roof of the National Theatre at an outdoor bar. However, we were feeling cosmopolitan (despite our dress) and headed next to a bar called Twice. For more reasons than our style of dress, we didn’t exactly fit in. But we had a great time dancing that evening. And that was Bucharest. The following day was basically the same. Sightseeing by day, beer and dancing by night. We left on a rainy Sunday afternoon by train toward Brasov.

Brasov, Old Town

Brasov, Old Town, lucky picture.

Brasov is Romania’s domestic tourist destination. It’s known for its Old Town Square, its varied architecture, and simply being the gateway to Transylvania. In a beautiful area, Brasov manages to impress. We also visited Bran, the mythical home of Count Dracula, and Rasnov, where Joel honed his bow-and-arrow skills. After a couple of nights, we were ready for our final day on the bikes, and we left for Sighisoara, 122km away. It was our longest day ride of the trip, and the weather was wonderful. After a night there, we caught a train to Cluj-Napoca where Lynne, my second cousin once removed (or maybe my second aunt?) lives with her husband Jim. They’re (you guessed it) volunteers with the Peace Corps working with the local prisons, stray dogs, and a few other things.

Joel works on his sweet bow skills.

Lynne and Jim took us in, cooked us dinner, and gave us beer. When we weren’t eating, drinking, or watching South Park on www.tv-links.co.uk, we also managed to sell our bikes and buy Joel some Nasonex. We actually had so much fun hanging out with Lynne and Jim that we didn’t see much of Cluj. On Friday, we left on a minibus for Budapest, minus the bikes. After an infuriating night in Budapest (see sidebar), we caught a train to Prague, and the greatest adventure on two wheels came to an end.

Sighisoara

I haven’t had much time to decompress and reflect on the previous two months, and I imagine that will take some time. I do know that it’s been a life-altering experience. Together, we bicycled over a mountain pass in the Alps, through lavender fields on islands in the Adriatic Sea, and below tunnels that seemed to run on forever. We witnessed progress, westernization, and scars slowly healing. We met people who’d lived under communism and experienced the horrors of senseless wars that took the lives of their friends and families. And yet it was these people who opened their homes to us, shared their food and drink with us, and talked with us about what it means to live in such an area. It's clear that life changes after living through such things. It has been remarkable.

Rasnov