Cyrous Hashemian pedals furiously through the blinding snow, shifting his body weight to avoid falling on the icy stretch of road. He glances at the thermometer on his bicycle, feeling every blast of the subzero temperature and wind chill. He has cycled nearly 24 hours straight, with a few five minute breaks, and has over 200 miles left to his destination.

Cyrous Hashemian is cycling from DeKalb to Canada. He not only encountered a severe winter storm, but planned for it.

“Riding in tough weather is the whole reason I ride,” the avid cyclist said, adding, “If everything is perfect, you are not making a good shot.” Hashemian, 21, is a pre-med student at Kishwaukee College and a DeKalb resident. He has cycled all over the country and even out of it.

Hashemian said his interest in cycling began shortly after his move to San Francisco from his native Iran over four years ago. He said he found many people in the area to be prejudiced and cycled to stand on his own. “I knew I had a great willpower inside me, saying ‘you have to go, you have to make it,'” he explained.

Hashemian said his high school English instructor pointed him in the right direction on cycling. He said the teacher gave him maps, tents, and bags, but told him to fend for himself when it came to details.

Hashemian fended for himself, and then some. His first trip, when he was 16, was from San Francisco to Los Angeles on an $80 K-Mart bike. When he reached L.A., Hashemian said he decided to move on, going all the way to Tijuana, Mexico. He said since he had little experience, he stayed in hotel rooms at night for much of the seven-day ride.

His next trip was even more dramatic. According to Hashemian, he pedalled to Canada the first spring break he was in DeKalb. He had heard on the radio a snowstorm was moving toward the country and wanted to move with it. “Each time I make it tougher; I make a tougher situation,” he added.

The Canadian trip was tough, Hashemian said. Pictures of his venture to the Great White North (he used a tripod and automatic timer) show him standing on the side of a snow-packed road, his face barely visible in the flurries swirling around him.

He dressed for the -20 degree wind chill by layering sweatshirts, pants and jackets. In one photo, the only feature visible on Hashemian are his eyes—he wears a ski mask and protects his mouth. All of the bundling, however, did not prevent Hashemian from losing feeling in his fingers up to three weeks after his return.

Hashemian said he did not stop for “a nice, juicy burger” but ate bread and water while he cycled, a usual habit. The in-transit meals saved him valuable time, he said. He had left home early Saturday and booked a Sunday night flight home from Canada.

To adhere to his timetable, Hashemian said he rode 24 hours straight, with short breaks in between. He said he covered 200 miles in one day, largely due to a strong wind at his back. He arrived on time at the airport the next night.

While on the road, Hashemian said he sleeps in his tent, a circular one no taller than four feet. According to Hashemian, he had to take off his gloves on an extremely windy night to set it up, an effort that took him over an hour and a half. “As soon as I laid down to sleep, the wind pushed under the tent and into my face,” he said, adding, “I got up right away.”

His next venture after the Canadian trip was to St. Louis last summer. On his way, he encountered Starved Rock, Illinois and a woman who warned him not to travel the dangerous mountain roads at night. He complied and stayed at the woman’s house overnight. “Sometimes you find nice people who give you a place to stay,” he said.

His trip to St. Louis was not without mishaps, Hashemian said. There were many bugs in the summer air that flew into his nose, ears and mouth. He said he wore sunglasses to keep them out of his eyes and found huge butterflies stuck to his perspiring hair and body. His reaction? “It was gross,” he said.

Hashemian said he is used to the bizarre, however. On one occasion, he ran over one of the many snakes on the side of a road, angering it. He said he found a rock and killed it, and proudly displays the dead three-foot reptile in a photo.

The snake was not the worst of his incidents. Hashemian said he had pitched his tent in central Illinois for a night, when barking and howling awakened him at 4 a.m. He said he opened his tent flap to see a wolf standing 10 inches away from his face.

Hashemian said he threw a can of chilli at the eight wolves surrounding his tent to keep them distracted. By 5:30 a.m. they were gone, and Hashemian said he left soon after, thankful he was unharmed.

There have been other mishaps as well. Hashemian said he was riding down a steep highway incline in California when a truck passed him. According to Hashemian, the wind force of the vehicle knocked him 10 feet off his bike into a wooded area three feet from a deep valley. He said a fall down the same valley under the same circumstances paralyzed another cyclist friend. “I am very lucky,” he added.

Preparing for a cross-country bicycle trip is not mere luck, Hashemian said. He said he looks at many factors before deciding where, when and how to leave.

He first makes sure he will not be cycling into the wind, which is “worse than going uphill” he said. He said he also tries to leave from a major city so he can fly back to DeKalb upon his return. In addition, he runs up to 20 miles at the Recreation Center, sometimes nonstop, to get his body into shape for the grueling ride.

“I can’t say I enjoy it (cycling) really. But I do it because I believe it is one way to become a man,” he said. Hashemian cycles alone and said it brings him closer to nature, something he values. “I adapted to a relationship between me and animals,” he explained, adding animals often notice and come close to him when he rides by.

Despite his achievemnts, Hashemian does not compare himself to Lycra-clad Olympic hopefuls. “I’m not a cyclist. I am a student,” he maintained, adding, “I ride for sport, a hobby.”

e does, however, find personal satisfaction in reaching a destination against the odds. He holds a picture of himself and his Novoro 15-speed bike, at the foot of a gravestone. The headstone is topped by a giant urn, resembling a great trophy. “It’s an adventure. If you make the adventure, you get the cup. If not, you end up in the cemetery,” he said, adding, “That’s what I’m trying to say.”

(Cyrous Hashmian is willing to help any interested or potential cyclist. Call him at 758-2104 for details.)