There was only one way I was going to get out of Kansas and into California,
and it surely wasn't going to be with my Schwinn which now had a flat rear tire.
Route 66 was my golden ticket to start my life over,
the only problem was I need to hitch-hike over 1,500 miles.

It was here, waving my hands up and down trying to get a ride,
I caught the biggest break in my life and I still can't believe I got so lucky.
After trying for over 3 hours, a trucker finally stopped alongside the road.
He was a sketchy looking character, but what did I have to lose at this point?
I was already 50 miles from home and the darkness of the night was coming.

Luckily for me he was more interested in my antique Schwinn then me.
So, we made a deal. A deal I'm not proud about but it had to be done.
Not only did he agree to bring me to California but he also promised to
buy me a new bike in exchange for my grandfather's Schwinn.

I took the deal seeing no other option to continue my journey.
I still regret giving up a piece of my family's history,
but in truth I was the only one that valued the history.
So, Grandpa if you were looking down on me during this time of my life,
I'm sorry for what I did but I think you would have understood my decision.
It was all in good faith as I was just trying to follow in your footsteps.

Sitting in truck with a man that just picked you up from
the side of road sounds daunting but it was actually quite enjoyable.
We quickly grew a friendship driving down the historic Route 66.
A day's trip to Cali only seemed like a few hours as we talked the entire way.

And for the first time on pursuit towards my dreams I finally found
somebody that understood what I was trying to accomplish.
Sure he didn't know anything about cycling,
well expect for the fact my grandpa's Schwinn was worth some money,
but he at least wanted to listen unlike my family or peers.

I would like to thank you Paul for not only bringing me to California and buying
me a new bike, even though I'm sure you got the better end of that deal,
but also for being my first supporter on my long journey.

And if we every do meet again... you owe me some more money
because I now know how much money that Schwinn was really worth.

Paul and I said our goodbyes after held his end of the bargain
by buying me a Trek SL1000, one of the best road bikes on the market.
Again I thought I was getting the better end of the deal,
so I don't even want to talk about how much grandpa's Schwinn was worth.

He dropped me off in San Diego and said my best bet was to go towards LA,
or the "The land of opportunity" as he called it.
So just like a normal ride through the corn back in Kansas,
I rode my Trek 120 miles into Los Angeles.
And surprisingly I didn't even break a sweat even in the 100 degree heat.

I was so used to beating up on my rusty Schwinn that this
new Trek almost felt like it was moving by itself as each pedal stroke
was so fluent and for the first time I didn't have to fight with my bike.

Once in Los Angeles I was surprised to see how many bikers there actually were,
and there were bike races being held almost every weekend!
I guess I have to thank Lance Armstrong for that as he had created
this new cycling hub after winning the Tour de France 7 straight times.

But, I only had $13 to name so my first night I found myself sleeping
at a bus stop holding onto my Trek for dear life hoping nobody would
try and steal my thousands of dollars bike right out from under me.
Lucky I made it through my first night alive and with all my possessions.

And that next day I registered for my first race since the Festival two years ago.