Girlquest: Cycling from Seattle to Boston

GirlQuest: A Cycling Adventure for Women

In July of 1998, I told my friend Olinda that I wanted to do something different after I graduated from college, like a cross-country bicycle tour.

She loved the idea of a challenge, but commented on how hard it would be. Trips like that always fall through because of lack of commitment.

Therefore, in competitive spirit I said, "Well, I am not going to quit. Are you?"

"No," she replied.

“Then it’s settled."

One year later we left Seattle, Washington for Boston, Massachusetts on our bicycles as a four-some of women self-named GirlQuest. Our self-declared mission was to complete a video documentary of our journey and inspire other women to ride bicycles for travel.

What we lacked in experience we made up for with sixty-pounds of what we thought fell under "necessary" and "just in case" equipment. Collectively, we shared the transportation of a stove, a fuel bottle, mess kits, walkie-talkies, a cell phone, a video camera, a tripod, two tents, food and protein bars.

After several months of planning, which included studying routes and maps and creating an extensive database for queer contacts, our lives became immediate and very simple. Our days were simple: eat, pack up, ride, eat, ride, argue, unpack, laugh, and rest.

Consequently, with plenty of time on our hands, uneventful days though desolated places and miles of nothingness, we came up with lots of things to argue about. On other days, we filled our time with nonsense jokes, cruel comments, encouraging words, hysterical laughs, and critiques on what we liked and disliked about each other.

However, we did everything together. We admired the fascinating sceneries and sang songs from old commercials and television shows. As we climbed mountains through the magnificent and challenging beauty of the Cascades, we talked about our lovers, our pasts, our families, our goals and our dreams.

The miles passed beneath us as we inched across the state of Washington. Ten days later, we crossed a 4,500 and a 4,800-foot passes in the colossal Cascades mountain range and passed into Oregon.

We thought the most difficult part was done. Yet ahead of us was a monster called eastern Montana, complete with 100-degree weather, headwinds, mosquito swarms, biting flies, and utter desolation. However, we did not focus on that. We had just met our first female athlete in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. Kari was a professional runner. She found us roadside waiting out the heat and took us back to her home. There, we met five other women and had our first barbecue and night on the town.

"We’re doing it, Laura," Olinda said to me that night, as I stepped from the stage after my debut karaoke performance.

Idaho was just the beginning. After that, there was Missoula, Montana, where we were invited on an inner tube float down the Blackfoot River. Just a few more miles east, we hit the jackpot in Fargo, North Dakota with Laurie, Roxie, Jan, Lola, and too many other girls to count for another barbecue of deer, hamburgers, corn, potatoes, and cantaloupe.

No matter where we went, it seemed that we always fell safely into the arms of a friendly female community. If when we needed a ride somewhere, we got one. When we had a question, it was answered. People pulled off the road to greet us and offered us full run of their homes without a moment of hesitation. We realized that women can travel safely on their own, and in fact, that doing so can be an advantage.

Not everything was rosy, though. We did not always ride together or even eat dinner together. Because we did not all know each other as more than acquaintances, there were an entire spectrum of obstacles outside of the physical challenges. Some days we could not even decide as a group whether to cross the street.

We did arrive in Boston ninety-seven days later and pedaled nearly five thousand kilometers. The blue Charles River twisted before us as we snaked our way through the city of Boston to the Atlantic Ocean.

As we each struggled to push a loathsomely back heavy bike through wet sand in order to dip the front tire in the opposite coast, we realized although each day had been a struggle to communicate, compromise and accept each other, we had finally finished what we set out to do.

A victory like that was more than a trophy or a diploma. It has been the single most important commitment I ever fulfilled and has given me the strength of mind to conquer the things I fear in all aspects of my life.

GirlQuest is on the road!