Editor’s note: Kaley Bell, a 2002 graduate of Hopewell Valley Central High School and a resident of Pennington, is en route to California by bike. On June 11, she began a nine-week cross-country bike tour, riding from Providence, R.I., to San Francisco, Calif. Her adventure is with Bike and Build, a nonprofit organization whose motto is "Pedaling to End Poverty Housing." Ms. Bell promised several updates along the way. Here is the second installment.
NEAR LEBANON, KAN. It’s 6 a.m. on a mid-July morning. Thirty other cross-country cyclists and I woke up at 4:30, and have just arrived at the geographical center of the continental United States, outside of Lebanon, Kan. (population 300). The monument that marks the center of our country is nothing more than a pile of rocks with an American flag, but in the lives of Bike and Builders that warrants a photo opportunity. Like most of the scenery we’ve seen over the past six weeks, it’s picture-perfect. The sun is just now rising over the Kansas hills. Soon after, we pedal off into Nebraska, 75 miles towards Alma, our home for the night.
My group and I have covered over 2,000 miles. It’s been a great time since I left Providence, R.I., but I’ve never pushed my body this hard before. All those preseason practices (soccer, lacrosse, and field hockey at Hopewell Valley; field hockey and lacrosse at Kenyon College) mean nothing now. They are minute compared to this physical exertion that I, and every Bike and Builder, commits to every morning at 5 and sometimes 4 a.m. But it is wonderful; I can not think of a better way to spend my summer. The people I have met are so amazing hilarious, motivating, intelligent, strong athletes, adding to this wonderful experience.
We biked up straight up Bear Mountain (Route 9W) near West Point, N.Y. in mid-June. In late June we were riding over the Appalachians and Allegheny Mountains in Pennsylvania. By early July we were riding through miles and miles of Illinois cornfields.
On the 4th of July, our only flat day of the trip, we biked for 80 miles without seeing anything but corn on either side. And when we finally hit a town, we rode straight through it and biked 20 more miles to our destination in Taylorville. Then we crossed the Mississippi River and stumbled onto "Tom Sawyer Days," Hannibal, Missouri’s answer to Pennington Day. We watched a fence-painting contest with children from as far as Alabama and Alaska dressed up as Tom Sawyer and Becky Thatcher, a mud volleyball tournament, and met the town’s Tom Sawyer impersonator. Now at mid-month we’re battling the wind, hills and heat of Kansas and Nebraska. We head to Colorado July 19.
Because of construction detours and faulty route maps that take us to roads that are not actually paved, some days we ride an additional 10-20 miles, making a daily ride 85-100 miles long. We are sunburned and just now getting over the soreness of the early weeks. We wear our jerseys for three days straight. We smell foul, even after a shower. We sleep on church floors, at YMCAs, an armory or at a local high school. We’re satisfied by the little things, like carpeting and air conditioning. We ride for eight-nine hours a day and sleep for five-six hours a night. Mental toughness has taken on a whole new meaning!
Our Bike and Build trip took us to a Habitat for Humanity build site in Lawrence, Kan. For parts of three days we assisted with home building. I handled some painting duties and went to the Habitat for Humanity ReStore a few miles away. The ReStore is a fantastic idea household items, parts, and construction materials are recycled; and they’re wicked cheap. I sorted cabinets according to style and cleaned off a newly donated stove that cost the previous owner $4,000, but had been donated because it was the wrong color. I’m sure someone will be very happy to buy it for $100 or even $200.
One of the best parts of Bike and Build is having absolutely no idea what day it is or what the date is. As I write this, we know that it is nearing July 21, because that is the release of the new Harry Potter book. The local bookstore in Holyoke, Colo., is holding 16 copies for some of our riders, and we will pick them up at midnight on the 21st. But normally, I don’t have a clue what day it is. I rarely check my watch. I don’t have a "to-do" list, and I rarely have access to e-mail. It’s the best thing ever to get up in the morning and think, "All I need to do today is bike 75 (or 85, or 95) miles."
If I’m tired, I get off my bike. If I’m hungry, I get a snack. No big deal.

