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Andy and I had a fun but expensive weekend. Andy and I have been setting goals for ourselves, but our goals always seem to include spending a lot of money. However, our latest big-ticket item will certainly be worth it, given the Bengfort/Keller respective histories.

We bought road bikes. And not cheap ones either. Andy and I both dished out close to $500 bucks on Daihon bikes. 8 gears, and they fold up in 20 secs. One neat little design trick was that you can pull the seat out, flip open some parts, pull out a tube, and voila! It becomes an airpump. They are neat bikes, and we were told that we can’t leave them out in daytime for any period of time unless we have a really big lock, otherwise they will be stolen immediately. Our friend, who recommended the brand, said he had a bike, locked it up right outside his building, was in the building for 5 minutes, and when he came down his bike was gone. Andy and I plan to use ours for 15 mile plus bike rides on Saturdays, and hope maybe to get out of Beijing to do some biking. The neat thing about its foldable abilities is that we can get a one way train ticket to some random city, bring our bikes on the train, and then bike back to Beijing.

We also did something else new this weekend. We participated in a scientific research study that involved an MRI. I’ve never participated in a research study, or had an MRI, so when I saw the study posted on City Weekend I signed myself up, along with Andy and Josie. We fit all the required criteria: Between the ages of 18 and 35, Right-Handed, and native U.S. English speakers. In return we got some cash, and got to keep our brain scan images. Now I know what my brain looks like. Apparently my brain was a little small compared to the others. That just means my brain is more efficient… same amount of memory space, but takes less room . Also good to know that we are tumor-less. Being in an MRI tube really isn’t that scary, mostly thanks to the screen they stuck over our head that blocked peripheral vision so you couldn’t really tell you were in a tiny tube. The hard part was not moving for 40 minutes, and constantly reminding yourself not to move your head at all. But, overall it was a unique experience, and it should be interesting to read the results of the survey when it finally comes out.

All of my friends think it’s really strange that I don’t have a bike in China. I suppose it is a cheap, healthy way to get around, but I’ve never felt the need to get a bike. In Shenzhen I had a five minute walk to work, and a bus stop right outside my apartment complex that could take me anywhere. In Beijing, my office is a twenty-ish minute walk, and a five kuai, five minute beng beng ride away from my apartment. Taxis are cheap, and so is the subway; traffic a nightmare, and drivers not very kind to cyclists. So, walking on the side walk, even if it took longer, has always suited me just fine.

However, the weather is getting nicer, and I decided that it would be good if I started to get accustomed to biking, maybe in preparation for a bike ride to the country side. I decided to borrow Andy’s bike to check out a place that would otherwise be a twenty minute walk away. It was a little too high, but I thought it wouldn’t matter. I got on the bike and started going, but quickly realized I couldn’t even make a full revolution with the pedals- my legs were too short. My feet could not touch the ground when I was sitting on the seat, and when I realized I couldn’t even pedal, I tried to get a foot on the ground before I toppled over from lack of momentum. Didn’t work. Me and my bike fell sideways, squishing my leg underneath and twisting my knee painfully. Hurting and totally embarrassed, I limped my way back up to my apartment. Andy came later that night to see me on the floor in front of the TV in just a miserable and pathetic state. I guess biking in Beijing just isn’t for me.

1. Important life lessons such as “There’s no We in Pee.” Remember folks, while women may go to the bathroom in hordes, the act of peeing is always the responsibility of the individual. If you have to pee, do it at the first convenient chance. Don’t wait for “group think” or else you will pee your pants, or at least needlessly suffer five miles until the next port-o-potty.

2. Bike Wind Sprints
What better way to fool your groaning muscles, revitalize your waning determination, and prove to your older brother you can do anything he can do, while whizzing a long doing a four minute mile? Wind sprints! Ben, Jaci and I did these for the last three miles of Day 3, and as far as I know, I didn’t even let on that I was dying!

3. Aunt Anita “shagging” everybody. The pseudo-Britons in our group just stared at her in disbelief when Anita, referring to her feat of emptying out the dining room, said aloud, “I shagged everybody out of there.” Refusing to believe our beloved Aunt was a skanky ho-bag, we awaited for an explanation, which came quickly after Ben explained what “shagging” meant in British English. However, this didn’t stop the many witticisms afterwards, including “No wonder you’re so tired” and “That’s why your legs hurt so much.”

4.Excellent Food. And I mean excellent. Home-made breakfasts (and cookies! Darlene was the best) cooked with love by the kind-hearted Bed & Breakfast owners, fine dining at the Bavarian Inn (although when there were not enough seats to sit together in the “casual dining room” we demanded to be placed in the main dining room, shunning the business casual dress code. At least we changed out of our spandex, although we were simply fabulous in it). Also on our list of dining experiences was Beans in the Belfry, a chapel-turned coffee shop/cafe that was a noon-time oasis on Day Four of the trip. The packed lunches were also delicious and nutritious, and even the trail mix was exceptionally tasty, even when shoved down the front of my lycra shirt because I had no room in my Camelback nor pockets in which to put them.

5. Paparazzi. Being followed around by a camera all day is challenging, especially when you are hot, sweaty and tired, and even more especially, when you are wearing spandex. But like I said, if anyone can pull off bathtub washed spandex shorts worn four days in a row, it is certainly us.

6. Mile Marker 0. Finding it.
Waiting at Mile Marker 1, we made plans for a grand arrival at Mile Marker 0, including biking in a single file line past Mr. Lamp, the self-designated cameraman, who had biked ahead to record the momentous finale. Our grand plans were rather anti-climatically foiled when we couldn’t find Mile Marker 0! We probably spent 20 minutes analyzing the map, making calls, and otherwise being confused, when we finally got on the right path. Needless to say, in our information pamphlets there were detailed directions on how to get to Mile Marker 0, just nobody checked that! Awaiting behind Mile Marker 0 were Uncle Roop and friends holding a giant “Tour de Rance” banner. It was quite the homecoming!

7. Pawpaw Tunnel
One interesting part of the ride was going through Pawpaw tunnel. Built right through a mountain, the history surrounding this tunnel is one of mismanaged funds, labor insurrection, time consuming construction, and other such building nightmares. The tunnel is half a mile long, with absolutely no light, and a pathway on the side about a person and a half wide. While at a rest stop, Charles gave us a flashlight, and told us to stick together. We initially thought we could bike through, but after one glance knew that walking our bikes was the only option. The ground was uneven, full of puddles, and it got so dark (We were in a single file line, and Ben with flashlight was so far ahead that he also faded into the darkness) that I even lost sight of the silhouette of Bethany’s head, only 6 feet in front of me. At least it was nice and cool, and gave us the opportunity to get off our bikes for a while.

8. Our directionally challenged van support.
Charles, or Cheek, was a really nice guy, just someone who probably has never actually biked the C&O; trail. His directions were vague, and very often wrong. So wrong, that we missed our lunch meeting spot on Day 1, and had to bike an extra 15 miles before we could stop for lunch. That meant we biked 45 miles without any sustenance. It was past three before we finally met up with Cheek at a campsite, where we held ourselves back from pouncing on him, and gobbled down our packed lunch with as much restraint as we could muster. I already wrote about the Mile Marker 0 disaster, and were also told by Cheek that we would be able to see the Bavarian Inn, our Day 2 lodging, from the bike trail. You couldn’t.

9. Dr. Ben and Beer Therapy
The medic of the trip was, as you can guess, Dr. Ben. In addition to dishing out copious amounts of Aspirin, Tiger Balm and Goldbond (which by the end of the trip people were unabashedly dumping down their shorts in public), he also lead breathing exercises and made dietary recommendations. Our favorite medical advice was “Beer Therapy.” Medical Research has increasingly shown that alcohol, in levels of moderation, has several health benefits. Beer of course is no exception. The “natural carbonation” and carbohydrates are excellent for getting rid of lactic acid on muscles and boosting energy. Plus its cheaper than champagne. Bottoms up!

10. Sue on the Goo.
All of us had “survival packs” which we kept on our person. These packs included tissues (for lack of port-o-potty emergencies), wet wipes, band-aids, and “goo,” two ounces of disgusting slime, chock full of caffeine and energy boosters in a variety of flavors such as mango, apple-pie and double espresso. I had to shoot mine Day 1, Mile 40, during the infamous lunch fiasco. It was not pleasant. Sue Lamp however, gave us all a shock when during the second or third day she downed the goo and just took off. She had so much energy, and was at the front of the pack for most of the day. I guess the goo does pack a punch.