Anzio
(Saturday, 21 June) Finding the port of Anzio from the train station was easy: just coast downhill. The shadows were getting long when we reached the ferry port in Anzio on our bicycles.The hydrofoil crew carried the bikes aboard, and we shoved off with about a ¾ passenger load. Continue reading
The road leads ever on…
If there is one lesson I have learned this summer, it is that extended bicycle touring does not lend itself to blogging the way I was doing it. I had to make a choice: either I could focus on writing and uploading my articles , or I could focus on the trip itself. Opting for the latter, I took notes and pictures like a traditional travel writer, with an eye to writing it up afterward. Not being able to work has been compensated by the incredible beauty and stunning impact of the places that we have seen. I hope to share some of that with you over the next few weeks. Continue reading
Trip update: to those who checked in at 1400 last Saturday, I apologize. I hope to post an extensive trip update this weekend, but it may not go up until next week.
Europe 2015 has started with the 50th Reunion of my high school class: Notre Dame International. I spent the week before that checking into the Airbnb apartment in Trastevere and completing formalities for my sojourner’s permit. The Reunion ends this weekend. The activity level is intense and lasts long into each night. When my friend and I hit the road after it is over, my activity should stabilize. I will bring you up to date at that time.
Smooth roads and tailwinds,
Jonathan
Waking up gently at the top of a sleep cycle, he noticed the sunlight filtering past the window shades. He checked the watch resting on the little shelf above his bunk bed: a good night’s sleep and time to get up. As he swung his feet out and into his sandals, he noticed that half of the bunks in the room still had sleeping occupants in them. 
Presumably the other half had gone to work, interviews, or other appointments already. Continue reading
First day in shorts!
Spring may finally have sprung in Central Virginia. Since my last post, we have had pleasant temperatures every day, though it still dips to near freezing every clear night. My muscles are getting stronger, as I train to recover from the relative inactivity forced on me in March. It is Holy Week in Western Christendom, which is a busy time for someone who sings in the Church choir. Nevertheless, I have managed to get out on the bicycle every day. 
Yesterday, I rode past the first blooming Brandon pears, and the forsythia are turning yellow on the sunny sides of the highways.
This week I would like to bring you up to date about the preparations for the trip to Europe, because there have been sudden, big changes. Continue reading
He was riding his bicycle. That was about the only good thing about the scene right now. The slick, coast road wound up and around the promontories, so that the wind and rain was as often in his face as across the beam.
As the cold rain ran off his Arcteryx rain jacket, soaking his crotch and running down his legs, he pedaled on, one stroke after the other. At the top of the hill, he pulled alongside the other rider, and matched her pedal cadence. Her face was set in a stony expression. The rain was dripping off her nose, and he knew that she was soaked everywhere that he was. Continue reading
Trip update: It is a good thing that I like to travel. This has been a wonderful week and a wretched week. Continue reading
The air was cool, with a gentle tailwind from the coast. Up ahead, we spied a Sobey’s in a shopping center on the right-hand side of the road. She wheeled into the parking lot, and I followed her. A few minutes later, we were sitting at a picnic table outside, checking our smart phones and swapping a half-gallon carton of orange juice between us.
“I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
— Robert Frost.
The mountain was not as steep as some that we had already climbed, but it seemed interminably long. It was not as hot today as it had been earlier, but I was drenched with sweat. To keep up a steady cadence on my pedals, I repeated the artilleryman’s mantra as I stroked,
“If I wasn’t a gunner I wouldn’t be here. Ready, aim, fire!”
My legs no longer burned like they did the first week, so I must be getting stronger. But there was no denying that she was faster, stronger, and lighter. Continue reading
This week I get to show you just how clueless I was when I started out a year and a half ago to live on the road. When bike packing, nothing gives you away as a newbie faster than your gear. Continue reading
The Freewheeling Freelancer 