” Few passengers on Saturday evening’s 6:10 ferry from Seattle gave the pair of middle-aged cyclists much notice as they devoured several cheeseburgers and cups of chowder. Like most of their fellow passengers, Stephanie Ager Kirz and Howard Kirz were simply heading home. The only difference was that they’d just cycled nearly 4,000 miles across the United States in more than three months to get there.A fellow cyclist had expressed some curiosity as they boarded the boat a few minutes earlier, noticing their panniers and bike trailer. Where’d you come from? he asked.Cle Elum.And before that?Virginia.For Howard, 59, it was the fulfillment of a 40-year-old dream.For no particular reason, while I was in college I decided that I’d ride across the country, he says. And some of my old buddies said that I talked about it even when I was in high school.The trip was deferred to his 21st birthday. Then 30th. 40th. 50th. He had a good reason for his next deferral as he neared 55 and had finally begun training: a horrendous mountain bike accident near Vail, Colo. While retrograde amnesia spared him the memory of the accident itself, there was no escaping the pain and consequences of several fractured thoracic vertebra, crunched ribs, sheared pedicle (a bone around the spinal cord) and concussion. His return to biking roughly coincided with the couple’s move to Bainbridge two years ago following retirement – Howard from medicine and Stephanie from marketing – after nearly three decades in Seattle. While Howard was new to the island, Stephanie had been a third-generation resident. Her grandfather Ben Purrington was the last commander of Fort Ward as an active military installation. The couple biked modestly, and eventually began leading weekend rides as they had for many years in Seattle. The still-smoldering embers of his dream started to glow.Last summer I was feeling better, so I biked to my 40th high school reunion, Howard says. The 238-mile journey took three days and was painful, but I knew I would be strong again.So I told Stephanie that my old dream had come back, and that I wanted to do it before I was 60.But her first reaction was less than supportive.Stephanie still had vivid memories of watching her husband crash horribly in front of her. I had nightmares for several years, she says.She got pretty upset, Howard concedes. She made me check into tour groups. But my goal was to have a personal odyssey, not follow anyone’s lead. None of them had any flexibility.So around October or November I said I was going to Tucson by myself to get stronger.Stephanie’s response was immediate. I am going too.He told her of the 148,000 total feet of elevation gain.As Howard put it to me, that was 10 Mt. Rainiers, Stephanie says. But it went right over my head. So I invited myself.I never win those arguments, Howard laughs. She has better genes than I do. The year before the accident she trained to do a one-day, ten-hour STP (Seattle to Portland) in three weeks.They trained in Tucson in January, February and March, covering 2,600 miles, the last thousand with full gear.The primary elements of that gear, of course, were the bikes themselves. Made by Independent Fabrications of Boston, they are durable but surprisingly heavy. They’re great touring bikes, says Stephanie. All steel and solid. They’re very comfy, and we didn’t have any saddle soreness.Weighing 105 pounds herself, Stephanie was propelling nearly 70 pounds between the bikes and her four panniers. Howard towed Bob – for Beast of Burden – the trailer which when fully loaded made his load nearly 100 pounds.Their training was very carefully calibrated.You can abuse yourself when you’re 25, but you have to be careful when you’re 60, Howard says. By factoring in distance, resistance and elevation, they could calculate their calorie loss rate and compensate accordingly. A learning tripOn April 28, they celebrated Stephanie’s 55th birthday.Soon afterward, they checked their 11-year-old west highland white terrier Kelly into a kennel, then flew to Virginia. On May 11, they began riding and arrived at the Colman Dock 85 days later, all but 10 of which were cycling days. They stayed in motels or similar accommodations each night, as their tent and sleeping bag never had to be unpacked. Their route encompassed 3,934 miles, essentially following the Trans-Am cross country bike route designed in 1976 for the Bicentennial.Remarkably, the trip was free from mechanical problems and injuries. Not even a flat tire.One reason was their schedule.Our basic plan was to ride five or six hours a day, Howard says. Most storms and high winds are in the afternoon, so we’d start at first light, then stop and enjoy where we were. If we had a lot of hills, we might do 40-45 miles. On the flats, we could do up to 100.And we always conceded the road, Howard adds. We wore rearview mirrors and if we saw something coming up behind us, we’d get off our bikes and let it pass. ‘You’re bigger and you’re metal, so you can have the road,’ we always said. Bikers need to be cautious.As an American literature major, Howard had a definite view of the trip.It was a complete tour of the unfolding of America, he says. We started in Jamestown, then visited colonial and Revolutionary era sites. We dipped our wheels in the Atlantic Ocean at Yorktown.It was so fascinating, Stephanie said. I had an historian traveling with me, and we could bike through many of the Civil War battlefields.Leaving Virginia behind, the couple encountered the toughest hill climbing of the trip, some 35,000-40,000 feet of gain as they crossed into the Appalachians and Kentucky.That is an astounding area, Howard says. The deepest poverty you might see, but some of the greatest kindnesses. One man driving a 1945 pickup offered us watermelon. In a tiny store the owner gave us doughnuts and coffee and refused to take our money.It was if people who had the least material things had the most kindness.Out of the mountains, they encountered the Kentucky bluegrass country, southern Illinois and crossed the Mississippi before five strenuous days in the Ozarks with 95 degrees and 95 percent humidity. Then we crossed Kansas, which most people complain about, but we loved it, Howard says. They watched cowboys herding cattle on ATVs and rode in combines harvesting wheat. In Guffey, Colorado (population 37), they saw a chicken-flying contest on the 4th of July.They’d shove a chicken out of a mailbox with a plunger and bet on how far it would fly, Howard says. The Humane Society even sanctioned it.At Pueblo, Colo., they made a right turn and crossed eleven Rocky Mountain passes, ranging from 6,000 to 11,500 feet in altitude.Stephanie laughs. At one point, Howard said, ‘Who designed this route?’But Colorado gave way to Wyoming, which Howard termed a bicyclist’s dream with six-foot wide shoulders and a place where we could see forever.Then they crossed into Montana and Idaho before entering Washington near Dayton. A few days later they were in Cle Elum and decided they were anxious to get home. A 92-mile ride that included a noisy stretch of I-90 and what was by then a mere speed bump through Snoqualmie Pass brought them to the most treacherous part of the trip: downtown Seattle.As they boarded the ferry, Howard says, We decided that this would be our last 6,000 calorie meal for a long time.Accordingly, they gorged on cheeseburgers, fries, clam chowder and beer.On a bike, everything is beautiful, Howard said. This is just a spectacular country at close range. “