It was a cool, bright morning on May 30, when Rich Coffman dipped the back wheel of his bicycle into the ocean at Fort Beach before pedaling off on a cross-country adventure. One-hundred-fifty days later he arrived in Santa Monica, California, and dipped his front wheel in the Pacific.
In the weeks and months in between, he logged 4800 miles, about 40 flat tires and a lifetime of stories.
Coffman, 64, stopped working last December and planned his bike trip to help him transition into retirement.
“My old life does seem like a long time ago because of this trip, which is great,” he said from his home near Fort Sewall on Oct. 31.
Coffman biked for 130 of the 150 days he was gone, traveling through mountain ranges (including Loveland Pass at 12,000 feet), plains and even the Mojave Desert. He hit 16 states, riding about 50 miles a day. He would sleep in local hotels or at friends’ homes along the route.
His main source of fuel was pizza.
“I would buy a giant pizza for dinner, eat half of it and save the other half for lunch the next day,” he said with a laugh.
Coffman lost 20 pounds on his trip.
“I stopped at a couple of shoe repair stores to have them pop a new hole in my belt to keep my pants from falling off. Once in Glenwood Springs, Colorado, his bathing suit dropped when he dove into a local pool.
“I’m underwater and I’m like, ‘OK, you’re naked. Don’t panic.’”
Coffman was able to secure his suit and put it back on before coming up for air.
He had good weather — for most of his trip.
“My scariest weather day by far was in Colorado on something called the McClure Pass. I’m near the summit and I see a lighting bolt. So I stopped and put on my rain gear. And then I saw more lighting and I could feel the wind … and the storm started coming right over the valley towards me. I laid the bike down and I got in this gully and hid under these two giant blue spruce trees. I was pretty proud of myself.”
Later that night at his hotel, Coffman was talking to some locals who warned him about an uptick in bear activity in the area. He felt relief that he hadn’t run into a bear in that gulley.
Coffman never crashed his bike or sustained any serious injuries. Near Palm Springs, he did get pushed into a guardrail by a gust of wind.
He learned that he couldn’t spend much time daydreaming or philosophizing while pedaling.
“You have to stay laser focused,” he said. “If you don’t I guarantee you will have a rude awakening. It could be a pothole or a rock, a drain. Inevitably, a semi will come by and you’re like, ‘Wow, wow,wow.”
A highlight of the trip, other than approaching the Santa Monica Pier in the very last moments of his ride, was a surprise to him.
“Everyone expects the best riding and views to be in the mountain passes of Colorado, right? But there’s an area of northeast Kansas called Flint Hills. Everybody thinks Kansas is flat, but there are pretty significant hills — big rolling things with limestone bluffs. It was gorgeous.”
He traveled to two other Marbleheads — one in Ohio and one in Illinois. And he ran into folks from here at a Rotary Club event in western Colorado.
Coffman plans to stay off his bike until next spring. But he’s already mapping out his next adventure on two wheels. He and his wife hope to join a tour group and bike the Tour de France route a few days behind the actual competitors.
Asked to reflect on any lessons learned during his cross-country adventure, Coffman smiled and said, “I met hundreds of people, and not one was a jerk. Not one person. One couple in Colorado gave me a $20 bill with their phone number on it so we could meet in California and they could buy me a congratulatory drink.” They did.
Other people bought Coffman breakfast or lunch or shared water in the desert.
“Everybody went out of their way to try to help me. That’s amazing,” he added.
