1838 miles later, I am in Trinidad, CO. How did this happen? Let's rewind for a second.
After our foray in Texas, we rode into Des Moines, NM. Since I have limited time to write (more on this later), I refer you to the entry I wrote for our group's journal (see link on right tab).
On the ride into tiny Des Moines, I was puzzled by the fleets of RVs and vans strapped with cycling accouterments driving past us. From first glance, it seemed far from an ideal vacation spot. Yesterday's ride erased that misconception. After a gorgeous sunrise, we rode through a majestic mountain pass of lush greenery nestled between graded peaks. Twenty miles later, we entered the plains of Colorado, where fields ahead blurred into the distance mountain scape. Despite some hellish headwinds to finish the day, it was a wondrous 74 miler.
Arriving in the town earlier than normal, I rounded up a troupe to see the new Transformers movie. Though I enjoyed seeing the footage shot on Penn's Lower Quad, the explosion laden special effects could not overcome the crude, formulaic plot. I found it particularly interesting how the film served as targeted marketing for the US Military. Clip after clip of impressive military machinery flashed acrossed the screen, even when the action was elsewhere. I swear the clips could have been pulled from an "Army of One" TV ad. Most troubling was the interaction between headstrong field leader Lennox and the president's cautious, intellectual aide. The thinker, who questioned the military actions that destroyed a third of Shanghai, was made to seem an obnoxious, misguided bureaucrat, whereas Lennox, who actually pushes the pencil pusher out of a plane, was cast in a hero's light. Is there any question why our culture is losing our scientific edge around the world? In all the small towns we've been visiting, memorials after memorial is put up for the soldiers that have served. Why don't we celebrate professors or judges or doctors? America's future depends not on those who defend and destroy, but instead on those who question and create. Let's transform.
So my post must stop here because of the library restrictions. Here in Trinidad, population slightly over 7,000, you are only allowed 1 hour of computer time a day. No continued use, even with a library empty now except for Bike and Builders. Oh and this morning a cop blared his horn at me for jaywalking...at 7:30 on Monday morning in a tiny town. I miss my cities of common sense. Hell, I even miss the South, where friendliness trumps following rules blindly. People operating on naive moral realism truly pain me. All the computer related work I have will remain incomplete, but I hope to post again soon. Ta Ta!
Our Route!
Charleston, SC to Santa Cruz, CA: May 26 to August 14
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
Ode to Oklahoma and Toast to Texas
Lot's to share, photos will come in a OK/TX/NM collection, so just read on for now...
We spent last night in Arnett, a tiny town (less than 500 residents) on the West end of Oklahoma. To give you a sense of the size, when we asked where we could get ice cream, one woman said, "Nowhere you can buy...we are like a 3rd world country, you want it you make it yourself." Arnett proved to be a great stay, as we led a bike safety clinic for local youth. Teaching hand signalling in a train formation and going on a ride around the block (with helmets of course!)...fun for all involved. Walking back to our hospitable church hosts, I started up a conversation with Chelsea, a OSU sophomore operating a small fireworks stand. When I asked her why a future dietitian peddled explosives with her summer, she replied, "how else I am going to make $5500 in two months?" Friends and family, let me tell you: people like to blow stuff up in the Panhandle. Kids, parents, and grandparents alike are setting these things off in their backyards left and right. It's wild! I guess you have to entertain yourself somehow...
Waking up early to beat the heat, we witnessed a sunrise over the plains of Oklahoma. I've seen my fair share of great sunrises: over Baltimore from a roof at John Hopkins, over Lake Michigan from the Chicago bike path, atop mountains in the Adirondacks...but this may have been my favorite. Expansive plains were slowly illuminated, grass gaining texture and definition each moment. A portrait sky of burnt orange and baby blue was glazed by a haze of clouds on the horizon. All the while, Bike and Builders were the only inhabitants of the roads and surrounding farmlands. Breathtaking.
Crossing into Texas, Jake and I stumbled upon Gene Bobbie's Donut Shop. What a gem. Faded rodeo posters plastered the walls of this farmer hangout, except for a sign outlining the nature of the establishment. One snippet said it best: "This may not seem like your normal donut shop, with cigarette smoking wafting about and dingy counters, but this is the West, and we welcome things as they be." The menu consisted of biscuit with egg, biscuit with egg/sausage, and biscuit with egg/bacon. (Curiously, no donuts). Scratchy voiced Gene greeted us along with his other regulars. They loved hearing about our trek, most especially our diligence. Gene croaked, "You should be proud of whatcha doing. Young folks around here are too lazy to slap the flies off their own ass," Having been in this state only 10 minutes in my entire life, I decided the entire experience was classic Texas.
Challenging day...A lengthy ride of 95 miles in the EMPTY Texan terrain (Quite simply civilization was absent. Each cows' eye in every herd intently followed each pedal stroke I made, which to be honest was ominous)...I was saddened to hear that five of our riders decided not to finish, opting to hitch hike some 40 miles to our destination. Their behavior truly upset me, which honestly is a rare emotion for me towards another person. I battled with how I should handle this: do I simply let it go, knowing each rider has opted to do this trip for their own personal reasons, or do I stand up for what I believe is right? I didn't want to cause trouble or hurt feelings, yet these actions diminish what everyone else is doing, whether the hitch hikers meant to or not. Wearing the Bike and Build jersey, we represent every host, donor, rider and most importantly American struggling to find affordable housing. If you are injured and can't continue, ride in our van. Otherwise, remember how simple our job is and pedal for the people. In this line of reasoning, I opted to tell each of the five riders individually that I was personally bothered by their actions. Telling them they are free to do whatever they want, I relayed that I think it reflects poorly on all of us. Reactions were mixed, from understanding nods of agreement to tears of inner turmoil to glares of contempt. I still am debating whether or not I made the right decision to share my opinions, yet I am left thinking I did right. Readers please comment: what do you think?
Later that evening, I roamed the streets of Spearman, population 3,500. I ended up watching the sunset with Taylor and scooting over to the Dairy Queen that grabbed our attention. Anxious to make the most of our visit, I approached a family eating there and asked to join them. Best decision of the day. The family had two generations of teachers/principals, with the patriarch Jim dominating the conversation. Native to Arkansas, he was a senior of Little Rock Central High when the famed integration experiment occurred. He told us stories of armed soldiers sitting in desks, helicopters on football fields, and meetings with Ernest Green (eldest of the 9). Never to end the amazement, he then gave us business cards for his cottage industry: modifying fry vegetable oil to power diesel engines. Apparently he runs his twin cab pickup on what restaurants want to throw away! Doubtful at first, Taylor and I soon became believes as his full family validated the claim, emphasizing how the exhaust fumes smell like fried chicken. We left DQ dazzled, discussing how small and interconnected our world is. They had relatives going to Taylor's school and were actually planning to be in Colorado when we will be. If we just take the time to sit down and learn about other people, we see how similar we truly are. I decided I must continue to try to engage random strangers throughout my life. However many odd looks or dismissals you may receive, the connections possible are worth it.
Tomorrow I am riding sweep (mandatory caboose for our group's train) for the second time of the trip, so will be on the road as long as the slowest rider takes. Yes, it will be a long 85 miles to Dalhart, but I can think of who this state is devoted to. My time in Texas is dedicated to two generous donors, Josh Leibner and Steve Rhodes. Dear friends of my father, they once attempted a tri-state bicycle trip. Unfortunately, my dad wiped out early in the adventure, getting a concussion and putting the kibosh on the whole affair. Thanks to their contribution, I ride to fulfill a dream they left incomplete. In my seventh state, I promise to keep wearing my helmet and push onwards towards the coast. Git'er Done!
We spent last night in Arnett, a tiny town (less than 500 residents) on the West end of Oklahoma. To give you a sense of the size, when we asked where we could get ice cream, one woman said, "Nowhere you can buy...we are like a 3rd world country, you want it you make it yourself." Arnett proved to be a great stay, as we led a bike safety clinic for local youth. Teaching hand signalling in a train formation and going on a ride around the block (with helmets of course!)...fun for all involved. Walking back to our hospitable church hosts, I started up a conversation with Chelsea, a OSU sophomore operating a small fireworks stand. When I asked her why a future dietitian peddled explosives with her summer, she replied, "how else I am going to make $5500 in two months?" Friends and family, let me tell you: people like to blow stuff up in the Panhandle. Kids, parents, and grandparents alike are setting these things off in their backyards left and right. It's wild! I guess you have to entertain yourself somehow...
Waking up early to beat the heat, we witnessed a sunrise over the plains of Oklahoma. I've seen my fair share of great sunrises: over Baltimore from a roof at John Hopkins, over Lake Michigan from the Chicago bike path, atop mountains in the Adirondacks...but this may have been my favorite. Expansive plains were slowly illuminated, grass gaining texture and definition each moment. A portrait sky of burnt orange and baby blue was glazed by a haze of clouds on the horizon. All the while, Bike and Builders were the only inhabitants of the roads and surrounding farmlands. Breathtaking.
Crossing into Texas, Jake and I stumbled upon Gene Bobbie's Donut Shop. What a gem. Faded rodeo posters plastered the walls of this farmer hangout, except for a sign outlining the nature of the establishment. One snippet said it best: "This may not seem like your normal donut shop, with cigarette smoking wafting about and dingy counters, but this is the West, and we welcome things as they be." The menu consisted of biscuit with egg, biscuit with egg/sausage, and biscuit with egg/bacon. (Curiously, no donuts). Scratchy voiced Gene greeted us along with his other regulars. They loved hearing about our trek, most especially our diligence. Gene croaked, "You should be proud of whatcha doing. Young folks around here are too lazy to slap the flies off their own ass," Having been in this state only 10 minutes in my entire life, I decided the entire experience was classic Texas.
Challenging day...A lengthy ride of 95 miles in the EMPTY Texan terrain (Quite simply civilization was absent. Each cows' eye in every herd intently followed each pedal stroke I made, which to be honest was ominous)...I was saddened to hear that five of our riders decided not to finish, opting to hitch hike some 40 miles to our destination. Their behavior truly upset me, which honestly is a rare emotion for me towards another person. I battled with how I should handle this: do I simply let it go, knowing each rider has opted to do this trip for their own personal reasons, or do I stand up for what I believe is right? I didn't want to cause trouble or hurt feelings, yet these actions diminish what everyone else is doing, whether the hitch hikers meant to or not. Wearing the Bike and Build jersey, we represent every host, donor, rider and most importantly American struggling to find affordable housing. If you are injured and can't continue, ride in our van. Otherwise, remember how simple our job is and pedal for the people. In this line of reasoning, I opted to tell each of the five riders individually that I was personally bothered by their actions. Telling them they are free to do whatever they want, I relayed that I think it reflects poorly on all of us. Reactions were mixed, from understanding nods of agreement to tears of inner turmoil to glares of contempt. I still am debating whether or not I made the right decision to share my opinions, yet I am left thinking I did right. Readers please comment: what do you think?
Later that evening, I roamed the streets of Spearman, population 3,500. I ended up watching the sunset with Taylor and scooting over to the Dairy Queen that grabbed our attention. Anxious to make the most of our visit, I approached a family eating there and asked to join them. Best decision of the day. The family had two generations of teachers/principals, with the patriarch Jim dominating the conversation. Native to Arkansas, he was a senior of Little Rock Central High when the famed integration experiment occurred. He told us stories of armed soldiers sitting in desks, helicopters on football fields, and meetings with Ernest Green (eldest of the 9). Never to end the amazement, he then gave us business cards for his cottage industry: modifying fry vegetable oil to power diesel engines. Apparently he runs his twin cab pickup on what restaurants want to throw away! Doubtful at first, Taylor and I soon became believes as his full family validated the claim, emphasizing how the exhaust fumes smell like fried chicken. We left DQ dazzled, discussing how small and interconnected our world is. They had relatives going to Taylor's school and were actually planning to be in Colorado when we will be. If we just take the time to sit down and learn about other people, we see how similar we truly are. I decided I must continue to try to engage random strangers throughout my life. However many odd looks or dismissals you may receive, the connections possible are worth it.
Tomorrow I am riding sweep (mandatory caboose for our group's train) for the second time of the trip, so will be on the road as long as the slowest rider takes. Yes, it will be a long 85 miles to Dalhart, but I can think of who this state is devoted to. My time in Texas is dedicated to two generous donors, Josh Leibner and Steve Rhodes. Dear friends of my father, they once attempted a tri-state bicycle trip. Unfortunately, my dad wiped out early in the adventure, getting a concussion and putting the kibosh on the whole affair. Thanks to their contribution, I ride to fulfill a dream they left incomplete. In my seventh state, I promise to keep wearing my helmet and push onwards towards the coast. Git'er Done!
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Hope's Crossing
An easy 65 mile morning delivered me to Watonga, OK, where I now write from the public library. Here's what's been happening...
300 miles in 3 consecutive days brought us to Oklahoma City Sunday afternoon. After a mellow evening, we woke the next morning to work with Central Oklahoma's amazing Habitat for Humanity chapter. Every year they pump out 45-55 homes, most funded completely by current mortgage collections and Revitalization Station consignment stores. Of the 582 homes they built since 1990, only 4 homeowners have defaulted on their loans, a tribute to their careful screening process. Thanks to some valuable contracting partnerships, OKC Habitat is the city's leading producer of energy efficient homes. All homes now are created LEED certified and powered by geothermal technology. With better insulation and construction materials, electric/energy bills can be as low as $40 a month, making it possible for these families to build financial security. Our day was spent in Hope's Crossing, a 60 acre neighborhood designed for 217 Habitat Homes. 8* have been completed so far, and children already swing and climb on the development's central park's jungle gym. On our house we did framing, putting up all the walls and sheathing. All hands were busy and active on site, our team uniting under a common purpose. One day of work transformed the space, changing a slab of cement into a tenable shelter. I felt recharged. Photos of this transformation are upcoming.
In the evening, some of us ventured downtown to see the OKC Hotel Bombing Memorial. While a beautiful tribute to a horrific moment of terrorism, it brought up a engaging debate on what to commemorate. I voiced my concern that while these 168 deaths are tragic, so many thousands and millions die without a second thought of preventable diseases or malnutrition. Where is there memorial? Why are immense amounts of funds put into this land art when it could save lives elsewhere? Many reiterated the answers I already knew...the suddenness and randomness of the event scared a generation, the media attention of the cold blooded trigger man, and the desire not to build over the physical site of the tragedy...but it left the questions coming. What would I want funds to be used for I was the victim of such random tragedy? What will this space mean to our country in 20 years? Comments on any of these would be welcome.
I think I am a picky reader. Though I've finished four books, I've also read 60-70 pages into three other books before shrugging them off. The latest was the Pulitzer Prize winning The Life of Oscar Wao, a story of an overweight Dominican geek toiling in loneliness. My new pickup is Nicholas Nickleby, which grabbed me mainly because of a theatre poster my father used to have in our old house. Let's hope Dickens doesn't lose me!
The next ride is into Arnett and should be around 90ish miles. It is dedicated to my mother Stacey. Mom, you are my role model for so many things; juggling family and career, voicing honest opinions, doing behind the scenes legwork, and cooking mastery (I need some recipes for medical school, by the way). I am an admitted mama's boy and I hope I grow up to be much like you. Thank you for everything. I can't wait to see you (and the whole Kole clan) in Colorado Springs.
Speaking of which, here is a mind blowing tid bit for ya...Within this month of June, I will have gone from South Carolina to Colorado. I must like to ride my bicycle, huh?
300 miles in 3 consecutive days brought us to Oklahoma City Sunday afternoon. After a mellow evening, we woke the next morning to work with Central Oklahoma's amazing Habitat for Humanity chapter. Every year they pump out 45-55 homes, most funded completely by current mortgage collections and Revitalization Station consignment stores. Of the 582 homes they built since 1990, only 4 homeowners have defaulted on their loans, a tribute to their careful screening process. Thanks to some valuable contracting partnerships, OKC Habitat is the city's leading producer of energy efficient homes. All homes now are created LEED certified and powered by geothermal technology. With better insulation and construction materials, electric/energy bills can be as low as $40 a month, making it possible for these families to build financial security. Our day was spent in Hope's Crossing, a 60 acre neighborhood designed for 217 Habitat Homes. 8* have been completed so far, and children already swing and climb on the development's central park's jungle gym. On our house we did framing, putting up all the walls and sheathing. All hands were busy and active on site, our team uniting under a common purpose. One day of work transformed the space, changing a slab of cement into a tenable shelter. I felt recharged. Photos of this transformation are upcoming.
In the evening, some of us ventured downtown to see the OKC Hotel Bombing Memorial. While a beautiful tribute to a horrific moment of terrorism, it brought up a engaging debate on what to commemorate. I voiced my concern that while these 168 deaths are tragic, so many thousands and millions die without a second thought of preventable diseases or malnutrition. Where is there memorial? Why are immense amounts of funds put into this land art when it could save lives elsewhere? Many reiterated the answers I already knew...the suddenness and randomness of the event scared a generation, the media attention of the cold blooded trigger man, and the desire not to build over the physical site of the tragedy...but it left the questions coming. What would I want funds to be used for I was the victim of such random tragedy? What will this space mean to our country in 20 years? Comments on any of these would be welcome.
I think I am a picky reader. Though I've finished four books, I've also read 60-70 pages into three other books before shrugging them off. The latest was the Pulitzer Prize winning The Life of Oscar Wao, a story of an overweight Dominican geek toiling in loneliness. My new pickup is Nicholas Nickleby, which grabbed me mainly because of a theatre poster my father used to have in our old house. Let's hope Dickens doesn't lose me!
The next ride is into Arnett and should be around 90ish miles. It is dedicated to my mother Stacey. Mom, you are my role model for so many things; juggling family and career, voicing honest opinions, doing behind the scenes legwork, and cooking mastery (I need some recipes for medical school, by the way). I am an admitted mama's boy and I hope I grow up to be much like you. Thank you for everything. I can't wait to see you (and the whole Kole clan) in Colorado Springs.
Speaking of which, here is a mind blowing tid bit for ya...Within this month of June, I will have gone from South Carolina to Colorado. I must like to ride my bicycle, huh?
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Oklahoma Opening
So after a concerned call from my Aunt, let me clarify: being sore doesn't ring the death toll for this trip, it's just a reality of pedaling kooky amount of mileage. Like at mile 35 of today's 102 miler, riding solo and glaring at an upcoming hill thinking "Wasn't Oklahoma supposed to be flat?" Pop in a Werther's caramel, belt out some Little Mermaid and those pedals are pounding again. I am still finishing in the lead group most days, so don't fret. I did this trip to test my mental and physical toughness, so I would be upset if I wasn't a little achy.
We made it to Oklahoma! Today's century ride took us to Henryetta, a dwindling town of 7,000. Concluding through their 'Main Street,' most windows were boarded up, relics of a once vibrant strip. This sad sight has become a common occurrence along my travels. Interstates divert travelers away from the state highways, Walmart out competes local businesses, staple industries are outsourced...the causes are many, the result the same: small towns withering and replaced by cookie cutter clusters of Subway, Family Dollar, and Sonic. This topic deserves a separate post entirely, and as I have another 98 miles on my plate for tomorrow, cannot delve into now. However, there is still more to share...
The church here gave us a wonderful reception, bringing in more than 50 local residents to meet with us and hear our presentation. They served the most delicious brownies I have ever indulged in (sorry Mom). I leaped at the opportunity to meet so many locals, chatting about Henryetta's history (home to Troy Aikman and inventor of the mechanic bull Jim Shoulders), church cultural norms, rural/urban differences, and dream vacations. Highlights of the night included the generous donation sum of $265, a tour of their one room town museum, and locals nicknaming me "Clark Kent." Super.
Photos of Arkansas can be found here! It is tough to take photos when you want to be involved in the day, but I need to do more shooting. My memories will fade without more pictorial kick starts, so I'll get snapping. Though slacking with the camera, I've been an avid reader, concluding my fourth book minutes ago. Minutes...oh dear, time for bed! When you need to wake up at 4:30, bedtime really sneaks up on you. Ta ta for now, Oklahoma City tomorrow...
Morning addition: Today's 99 mile ride to OKC is devoted to my father (on Father's Day no less). With a deep love of family, a commitment to justice, and lighthearted goofiness, my dad helped shape the person I am today. Dad, enjoy the Father's Day postcards coming in the mail and have a great day. I love you very much and thank you for being you.
We made it to Oklahoma! Today's century ride took us to Henryetta, a dwindling town of 7,000. Concluding through their 'Main Street,' most windows were boarded up, relics of a once vibrant strip. This sad sight has become a common occurrence along my travels. Interstates divert travelers away from the state highways, Walmart out competes local businesses, staple industries are outsourced...the causes are many, the result the same: small towns withering and replaced by cookie cutter clusters of Subway, Family Dollar, and Sonic. This topic deserves a separate post entirely, and as I have another 98 miles on my plate for tomorrow, cannot delve into now. However, there is still more to share...
The church here gave us a wonderful reception, bringing in more than 50 local residents to meet with us and hear our presentation. They served the most delicious brownies I have ever indulged in (sorry Mom). I leaped at the opportunity to meet so many locals, chatting about Henryetta's history (home to Troy Aikman and inventor of the mechanic bull Jim Shoulders), church cultural norms, rural/urban differences, and dream vacations. Highlights of the night included the generous donation sum of $265, a tour of their one room town museum, and locals nicknaming me "Clark Kent." Super.
Photos of Arkansas can be found here! It is tough to take photos when you want to be involved in the day, but I need to do more shooting. My memories will fade without more pictorial kick starts, so I'll get snapping. Though slacking with the camera, I've been an avid reader, concluding my fourth book minutes ago. Minutes...oh dear, time for bed! When you need to wake up at 4:30, bedtime really sneaks up on you. Ta ta for now, Oklahoma City tomorrow...
Morning addition: Today's 99 mile ride to OKC is devoted to my father (on Father's Day no less). With a deep love of family, a commitment to justice, and lighthearted goofiness, my dad helped shape the person I am today. Dad, enjoy the Father's Day postcards coming in the mail and have a great day. I love you very much and thank you for being you.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Arkansas Recap
Jon Kole, reporting live from Fort Smith, the second largest city in Arkansas. Before we move on to Oklahoma, a discussion of the past days' events is in order...
With a full free day in Little Rock, I (as many of you would expect) sought to maximize every minute. I woke up early to do some fundraising and publicity emails for Bike and Build, then hopped a shuttle to the downtown district. First destination was the Clinton Library, a prize of modern architecture within its own local park. Bryant and I looked around the lobby and made the executive decision to move to the next location, the Arkansas Art Center. They had a wonderfully surprising collection, even boasting the likes of Van Gogh and Monet. We took some artsy photos (upcoming post) and goofed off with a camp group before heading to Sonic for a midday beverage. Off the bike, we realized how brutal Southern heat is. With 15-16 mph of wind in your face, the heat never really wipes you out. Walking the streets in a stagnant 93-93 F heat, however, leaves you a tad fa-chlemped. We toughed it out and huffed it several miles to see Central High, the site of the historic Little Rock 9 who first integrated the schools. They had a pleasant little museum very reminscient of the Chicago Freedom Museum, which was a treat. We strolled on to see the current and past State Capitol buildings, immersing ourselves into ongoing tours with James Bond stealth. The evening concluded with another minor league game, though the home Little Rock Travelers couldn't seal the victory. Hearing the wealth and breadth of my experiences, two or three other riders told me, "Next day off, I am sticking with you!" Catch me if you can.
Thursday was back on saddle, riding 67 miles to Russellville, AR. Not a particularly great riding day for me, as I have unfortunately been developing some soreness in the rear. However, visiting the local Arkansas Tech campus and purchasing one of their school shirts boosted my spirits. Why, pray tell? I believe they have the nation's best nickname: the Arkansas Tech Wonderboys. I now am the proud owner of a T-shirt reading: "Yes, We are the Wonderboys." Glorious.
Today's ride of 94 miles was quite the adventure. Eager to see more of the pride of Arkansas, several riders and I left the day's charted course and headed off to the Ozark National Forest. While futzing around the trails, we stumbled upon a great swimming spot. Again and again in this state, I find myself thinking of my childhood summers in the Adirondacks. The lush greenery, rolling hills, and hidden lakes...yet I am different. I swam and played for a bit, but soon thought of the philosophical book in my bag (Our Posthuman Future) and left diving off docks for reading under the sun. The 7 year old Jono would have been mortified. The rest of the day featured scenic roadways, spurts of conversation with my goodhearted companion Ben, and jamming to Disney songs in my head. It is surprising how effective Aladdin can be rejuvenating my legs, especially with appropriate riding dance moves. Okay, so maybe Jono lives on.
Tomorrow is a flat 95 miles into Henryetta, Oklahoma. Oklahoma. How on earth am I already in Oklahoma? I never biked longer than 50 miles before this trip, and now I am entering my sixth state on this tour. Mind is officially blown. Speaking of which, I will arise to bike in less than 5 hours, so rest is required. Good night to all and to all a good night!
With a full free day in Little Rock, I (as many of you would expect) sought to maximize every minute. I woke up early to do some fundraising and publicity emails for Bike and Build, then hopped a shuttle to the downtown district. First destination was the Clinton Library, a prize of modern architecture within its own local park. Bryant and I looked around the lobby and made the executive decision to move to the next location, the Arkansas Art Center. They had a wonderfully surprising collection, even boasting the likes of Van Gogh and Monet. We took some artsy photos (upcoming post) and goofed off with a camp group before heading to Sonic for a midday beverage. Off the bike, we realized how brutal Southern heat is. With 15-16 mph of wind in your face, the heat never really wipes you out. Walking the streets in a stagnant 93-93 F heat, however, leaves you a tad fa-chlemped. We toughed it out and huffed it several miles to see Central High, the site of the historic Little Rock 9 who first integrated the schools. They had a pleasant little museum very reminscient of the Chicago Freedom Museum, which was a treat. We strolled on to see the current and past State Capitol buildings, immersing ourselves into ongoing tours with James Bond stealth. The evening concluded with another minor league game, though the home Little Rock Travelers couldn't seal the victory. Hearing the wealth and breadth of my experiences, two or three other riders told me, "Next day off, I am sticking with you!" Catch me if you can.
Thursday was back on saddle, riding 67 miles to Russellville, AR. Not a particularly great riding day for me, as I have unfortunately been developing some soreness in the rear. However, visiting the local Arkansas Tech campus and purchasing one of their school shirts boosted my spirits. Why, pray tell? I believe they have the nation's best nickname: the Arkansas Tech Wonderboys. I now am the proud owner of a T-shirt reading: "Yes, We are the Wonderboys." Glorious.
Today's ride of 94 miles was quite the adventure. Eager to see more of the pride of Arkansas, several riders and I left the day's charted course and headed off to the Ozark National Forest. While futzing around the trails, we stumbled upon a great swimming spot. Again and again in this state, I find myself thinking of my childhood summers in the Adirondacks. The lush greenery, rolling hills, and hidden lakes...yet I am different. I swam and played for a bit, but soon thought of the philosophical book in my bag (Our Posthuman Future) and left diving off docks for reading under the sun. The 7 year old Jono would have been mortified. The rest of the day featured scenic roadways, spurts of conversation with my goodhearted companion Ben, and jamming to Disney songs in my head. It is surprising how effective Aladdin can be rejuvenating my legs, especially with appropriate riding dance moves. Okay, so maybe Jono lives on.
Tomorrow is a flat 95 miles into Henryetta, Oklahoma. Oklahoma. How on earth am I already in Oklahoma? I never biked longer than 50 miles before this trip, and now I am entering my sixth state on this tour. Mind is officially blown. Speaking of which, I will arise to bike in less than 5 hours, so rest is required. Good night to all and to all a good night!
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Entering Little Rock
Diverse day of riding today...We started with some empty, rural plains, passing through town after town with posted populations below 250. I was cruising with the birthday girl Sarah, an independent minded social activist, making the miles fly by with conversations on education, power structures, and favorite vegetables (note to self, have to try kale). We stopped at the tiny Museum of Plantation Agriculture in Scott, AR (2 bucks if you can find it on a non-Internet map). After my first flat tire of the trip, we came upon Little Rock and had the pleasure of riding their 7-8 miles of river trail. I loved it! Getting lost in green parks within cities, immersed in nature yet still in civilization...I can't get enough of it. We then crossed the largest pedestrian/bicycling bridge in the US simply and aptly named "Big Dam Bridge."
This United Methodist Church gave us yet another amazing meal. I honestly am eating more food than I ever have, and for those of you that know me, that is truly saying something. Tray after tray of Southern BBQ, mounds of homemade potato salads, plates of assorted fruits and vegetables...every meal is a feast. Not to mention peanut butter now makes up about 27% of my bloodstream. Even though I will need it for more than 900 miles over the next 11 days, the volume still shocks me. I've also noticed that most members (myself included) of our gang have become quite lax on food consumption cleanliness. Crumbs in hair, honey on elbows, frosting on shins...sometimes it looks like we decided to swim in our food. Sexy, huh? It just speaks to the level of comfort we have reached with each other. No longer do people change shirts in bathroom stalls, instead openly discussing the anti-chaffing creams to rub in their nether regions. Too much information for you? Maybe. You will find the truth here on Road Reflections.
The stay in Arkansas, the natural state, is brought to you by my Great Aunt Kitty. At my birth, she bestowed a wonderful gift upon me: a scrapbook chronicling the complete genealogy of the Kole family. Ever since, her generosity has never faltered, giving so much throughout my childhood and up to this trip, including a care package of luscious brownies. I admire her independence, open-mindedness and good-natured sass. I thank you for everything and love you very much.
Now I am off to enjoy my free day in Little Rock, which may include a movie in their riverside park and a trip to the Clinton Library. Hoping to squeeze a little reading in too. Tough life huh?
This United Methodist Church gave us yet another amazing meal. I honestly am eating more food than I ever have, and for those of you that know me, that is truly saying something. Tray after tray of Southern BBQ, mounds of homemade potato salads, plates of assorted fruits and vegetables...every meal is a feast. Not to mention peanut butter now makes up about 27% of my bloodstream. Even though I will need it for more than 900 miles over the next 11 days, the volume still shocks me. I've also noticed that most members (myself included) of our gang have become quite lax on food consumption cleanliness. Crumbs in hair, honey on elbows, frosting on shins...sometimes it looks like we decided to swim in our food. Sexy, huh? It just speaks to the level of comfort we have reached with each other. No longer do people change shirts in bathroom stalls, instead openly discussing the anti-chaffing creams to rub in their nether regions. Too much information for you? Maybe. You will find the truth here on Road Reflections.
The stay in Arkansas, the natural state, is brought to you by my Great Aunt Kitty. At my birth, she bestowed a wonderful gift upon me: a scrapbook chronicling the complete genealogy of the Kole family. Ever since, her generosity has never faltered, giving so much throughout my childhood and up to this trip, including a care package of luscious brownies. I admire her independence, open-mindedness and good-natured sass. I thank you for everything and love you very much.
Now I am off to enjoy my free day in Little Rock, which may include a movie in their riverside park and a trip to the Clinton Library. Hoping to squeeze a little reading in too. Tough life huh?
GA/AL/ MS Photos
Take a gander here...
Note the new link on the sidebar, where you can read our trip's journal entries (random rider each day) or my buddy Jake's insights.
Note the new link on the sidebar, where you can read our trip's journal entries (random rider each day) or my buddy Jake's insights.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Praise Mississippi
The following was written on Sunday, but is now posted from another state: Arkansas! Today (Monday) we rode 96 miles and romped at a pool party. Stories and photos from this state will follow (I know, I am slacking on photos, but it's tough to find time to load 'em). Enjoy the yesterday's story...
With a 70 mile day ahead of us, the group set off from Oxford, MS in the early morning in good spirits. Despite a slightly cloudy sky, we were optimistic that we could slip past the predicted showers. Three miles into our journey, such hopes were dashed. Our route had led us into a full blown thunderstorm clouds immersed in a midnight black sky. As the rain pelted upon us, the wild winds blew riders sideways and backwards. We quickly headed for cover, which for several others and me was a nearby gas station. Waiting for more than a half hour, riders nibbled on snacks or napped sprawling out across the linoleum floor. Once the titled “End of Days” storm had past, we head back onto the road, cruising towards Clarksdale.
Anxious to get a full Southern experience, my fellow rider Amelia and I stopped in on two churches for Sunday services. Our first visit was to Shady Groves Baptist Church, housed in a beautiful brick building with elegant white pillars. Stepping inside, the hall was brightly lit and well carpeted, smelling faintly of Febreeze. We were welcomed by a wall of grandmotherly women, nearly enveloping us with hugs. The nearly 100 person congregation was 100% white and predominantly older, which I assumed to be the makeup of the surrounding populace. The service was short and simple, chanting hymns before the pastor gave a brief, austere sermon on facing life’s fears. Chatting with the congregants later, we were met with kindness and generosity, receiving several donations towards our affordable housing efforts.
Less than two miles down the road, we came upon another Baptist service at First Baptist Church. Though we were greeted with similar warmth, the congregations couldn’t be more different. Within a barn-like wooden structure, this dimly lit venue was bursting with vibrancy. Black families filled the pews, singing and dancing in their praise of their Lord. The pastor gave a lengthy, impassioned sermon that enlivened his audience. Unlike Shady Groves, the hymns were accompanied by full rock band and ensemble choir. As one prone to dance, I leapt at the Reverend’s call to “Dance for Your Lord,” drawing smiles and giggles from nearby children. Heading back onto the road, my mind jumped from the varying methods of prayer to the stark racial and age segregations, all the while considering constant faith and compassion throughout. Yet another enriching Bike and Build morning.
After a late lunch stop, we headed onto the highways for the second half of our ride. I quickly realized Central Mississippi is as flat as a landing strip, letting you see miles of road in front or behind you. Some riders loved it, others felt bored to tears. Fortunately, I fall in the first camp, using this terrain as chance to test my speed and focus. Upon entering Clarksdale, we were greeted with sunshine and heat, neatly drying our rain soaked gear before entering our church for the night. After spaghetti dinner and some affordable housing discussion, the other riders headed to bed, as we have a 94 mile day ahead tomorrow. Speaking of which, I better get to sleep!
With a 70 mile day ahead of us, the group set off from Oxford, MS in the early morning in good spirits. Despite a slightly cloudy sky, we were optimistic that we could slip past the predicted showers. Three miles into our journey, such hopes were dashed. Our route had led us into a full blown thunderstorm clouds immersed in a midnight black sky. As the rain pelted upon us, the wild winds blew riders sideways and backwards. We quickly headed for cover, which for several others and me was a nearby gas station. Waiting for more than a half hour, riders nibbled on snacks or napped sprawling out across the linoleum floor. Once the titled “End of Days” storm had past, we head back onto the road, cruising towards Clarksdale.
Anxious to get a full Southern experience, my fellow rider Amelia and I stopped in on two churches for Sunday services. Our first visit was to Shady Groves Baptist Church, housed in a beautiful brick building with elegant white pillars. Stepping inside, the hall was brightly lit and well carpeted, smelling faintly of Febreeze. We were welcomed by a wall of grandmotherly women, nearly enveloping us with hugs. The nearly 100 person congregation was 100% white and predominantly older, which I assumed to be the makeup of the surrounding populace. The service was short and simple, chanting hymns before the pastor gave a brief, austere sermon on facing life’s fears. Chatting with the congregants later, we were met with kindness and generosity, receiving several donations towards our affordable housing efforts.
Less than two miles down the road, we came upon another Baptist service at First Baptist Church. Though we were greeted with similar warmth, the congregations couldn’t be more different. Within a barn-like wooden structure, this dimly lit venue was bursting with vibrancy. Black families filled the pews, singing and dancing in their praise of their Lord. The pastor gave a lengthy, impassioned sermon that enlivened his audience. Unlike Shady Groves, the hymns were accompanied by full rock band and ensemble choir. As one prone to dance, I leapt at the Reverend’s call to “Dance for Your Lord,” drawing smiles and giggles from nearby children. Heading back onto the road, my mind jumped from the varying methods of prayer to the stark racial and age segregations, all the while considering constant faith and compassion throughout. Yet another enriching Bike and Build morning.
After a late lunch stop, we headed onto the highways for the second half of our ride. I quickly realized Central Mississippi is as flat as a landing strip, letting you see miles of road in front or behind you. Some riders loved it, others felt bored to tears. Fortunately, I fall in the first camp, using this terrain as chance to test my speed and focus. Upon entering Clarksdale, we were greeted with sunshine and heat, neatly drying our rain soaked gear before entering our church for the night. After spaghetti dinner and some affordable housing discussion, the other riders headed to bed, as we have a 94 mile day ahead tomorrow. Speaking of which, I better get to sleep!
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Good 'Ole Miss
I write now in Oxford, Mississippi from within the Ole Miss Student Union. They have an sprawling, yet elegant campus (all photos in the next post). Let's get you all caught up...
Two days ago, I arrived in Hamilton Alabama elated to discover our church host was located a stone's throw from a 3 theatre movie cinema. After our New Orleans native Chris made us some fantastic jambalaya, a fellow Pixar addict Taylor and I went to see UP while the rest of the crew slept. While the film was heartwarming and fun, the highlight of the experience was the venue itself. Raffle tickets served as the entrance stub, sizable popcorn and drinks put us back a mere $4, and there was no one else in the audience. Such freedom left us momentarily distraught over selecting seats, requiring multiple test rows and re-positionings.
The next morning we departed hilly Alabama and made our way to Tupelo, Mississippi. On the way, I chatted with a warm 23 year old named Dustin working at a local 'man' shop (hardware/automobile/BBQ combo). He told me how excited he was that he finished his GED and would be heading down the road to work at the semi weighing station, a job he hoped to work the rest of his life. He was on my mind for miles. I have a personal mantra of sorts: "You are in the 99% of opportunity of the planet, so share the wealth." When I think about how I won the situational lottery at birth (great family, all needs met), I usually compare to those suffering in poverty in third world nations. While Dustin is far from suffering, he is part of that 99%. He will likely never leave the 3-4 states surrounding him. My world is so much larger than his...which while filling me with gratitude, saddens me as well. Much can be written and said on this topic, but I will simply say this: remember how fortunate you are. And as my dear friend JBA's said: "Don't sweat the small stuff."
Tupelo had both the museum commemorating the birth of Elvis, a must-see, and my favorite ice cream adventure thus far. Jake and I pulled over at 'Dairy Kream,' a small hut teeming with 30-40 elementary school students. I will never forget this experience. Ordering our chocolate dip cones, we started to make small talk with some of the kids. Tayshaun, a tallish 9 year old with a gap toothed grin, soon dominated the conversation: Why'd you bike here? How fast can you go? Why are you wearing those tight pants? I looked down at Jake and my spandex. Having spent two and a half weeks wearing the same skintight outfit, I almost forgot they were irregular. We told him it was for speed, then attempting to redirect the conversation elsewhere. No such luck. "Look, look you can see their..." He giggled as he pointed to our groins. Jake and I couldn't help but laughing, sharing a look of bewilderment. Tayshaun was relentless, calling over anyone within earshot. Each with half a cone left, we were stuck, shifting awkwardly as we were teased by a prepubescent bully. We scarfed down the rest and quickly rode off, both admitting feeling quite embarrassed by the whole affair. Instant memory.
Rides have been shorter the last two day (57, 50), so I've been feeling great. Tomorrow I must ride sweep, the last safety net for our group. Going the slowest would normally have tested my patience, but I plan to go see an authentic Mississippi Sunday sermon and savor the ride. Full report upcoming!
While Alabama was devoted to my Grandma Betty, my days in Mississippi are dedicated to my Papa Seymour. Through games of tennis, chess, and poker over many summers in the Adirondacks, I grew very close to my affable grandfather. His willingness to perform/dance freely and with confidence, well, I think I got a little of those genes. I love him very much and thank him for not only donating to this cause, but being his fantastic self.
Two days ago, I arrived in Hamilton Alabama elated to discover our church host was located a stone's throw from a 3 theatre movie cinema. After our New Orleans native Chris made us some fantastic jambalaya, a fellow Pixar addict Taylor and I went to see UP while the rest of the crew slept. While the film was heartwarming and fun, the highlight of the experience was the venue itself. Raffle tickets served as the entrance stub, sizable popcorn and drinks put us back a mere $4, and there was no one else in the audience. Such freedom left us momentarily distraught over selecting seats, requiring multiple test rows and re-positionings.
The next morning we departed hilly Alabama and made our way to Tupelo, Mississippi. On the way, I chatted with a warm 23 year old named Dustin working at a local 'man' shop (hardware/automobile/BBQ combo). He told me how excited he was that he finished his GED and would be heading down the road to work at the semi weighing station, a job he hoped to work the rest of his life. He was on my mind for miles. I have a personal mantra of sorts: "You are in the 99% of opportunity of the planet, so share the wealth." When I think about how I won the situational lottery at birth (great family, all needs met), I usually compare to those suffering in poverty in third world nations. While Dustin is far from suffering, he is part of that 99%. He will likely never leave the 3-4 states surrounding him. My world is so much larger than his...which while filling me with gratitude, saddens me as well. Much can be written and said on this topic, but I will simply say this: remember how fortunate you are. And as my dear friend JBA's said: "Don't sweat the small stuff."
Tupelo had both the museum commemorating the birth of Elvis, a must-see, and my favorite ice cream adventure thus far. Jake and I pulled over at 'Dairy Kream,' a small hut teeming with 30-40 elementary school students. I will never forget this experience. Ordering our chocolate dip cones, we started to make small talk with some of the kids. Tayshaun, a tallish 9 year old with a gap toothed grin, soon dominated the conversation: Why'd you bike here? How fast can you go? Why are you wearing those tight pants? I looked down at Jake and my spandex. Having spent two and a half weeks wearing the same skintight outfit, I almost forgot they were irregular. We told him it was for speed, then attempting to redirect the conversation elsewhere. No such luck. "Look, look you can see their..." He giggled as he pointed to our groins. Jake and I couldn't help but laughing, sharing a look of bewilderment. Tayshaun was relentless, calling over anyone within earshot. Each with half a cone left, we were stuck, shifting awkwardly as we were teased by a prepubescent bully. We scarfed down the rest and quickly rode off, both admitting feeling quite embarrassed by the whole affair. Instant memory.
Rides have been shorter the last two day (57, 50), so I've been feeling great. Tomorrow I must ride sweep, the last safety net for our group. Going the slowest would normally have tested my patience, but I plan to go see an authentic Mississippi Sunday sermon and savor the ride. Full report upcoming!
While Alabama was devoted to my Grandma Betty, my days in Mississippi are dedicated to my Papa Seymour. Through games of tennis, chess, and poker over many summers in the Adirondacks, I grew very close to my affable grandfather. His willingness to perform/dance freely and with confidence, well, I think I got a little of those genes. I love him very much and thank him for not only donating to this cause, but being his fantastic self.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Alabama Fame
Limited access to group computer...Get ready for some stream of consciousness writing!
I've been having some great religion talks lately, especially as I am one of my group's few (if only) agnostic/atheist representatives. Sleeping in churches, saying prayers at Habitat sites, and meeting residents glad we are doing "the Lord's work" makes the topic simply unavoidable. Delving into the details would violate some of the group trust, but I am definitely hearing some intriguing perspectives. Yay intellectual growth! On this note, thanks to Walmart I picked up my third book of the summer (Kite Runner). I find it disheartening that a 18 store Birmingham mall had 8 places to buy sneakers and no bookstore. Kick the kicks and mind your mind.
Here in Alabama, we've been getting an amazing reception from locals and media alike. Like the prior church hosts, they've served fantastic meals and greeted us with open arms, but the response here is so heartfelt. One man making us breakfast broke down into tears of pride for our efforts, other women insisted on having photos taken with us, and all showed signs of awe and gratitude. My fellow riders and I have been discussing how wild this sort of reaction is. Even after doing 210 miles in two days, we don't feel like heroes or martyrs, just tired college kids. Yet people tell us how we inspire or touch their lives...it's startling. As for the media, three news affiliates (ABC/NBC/FOX) in Birmingham put our Habitat Build Day on their 6 pm news. In Eastern Alabama, I made the cover of the regional newspaper (click here). I may have to go superhero on all you readers...
Batman (and Bike and Build Riders): A man is just flesh and blood and can be ignored or destroyed (or tired on his/her bike). But as a symbol... as a symbol, I (we) can be incorruptible, everlasting.
Here in Birmingham, we did some rewarding and valuable work on two Habitat homes, doing a combination of siding installation, interior painting, and shelving construction. In the evening, I took a solo adventure downtown to see the site of the 1963 16th St Church bombing and stroll the streets. While a quaint city, the downtown was eerily quiet at 5:30 pm. During my roaming, a wonderful thing happened. As I entered the public bus, I realized I lacked the correct change for fare. Asking the lady in front of me for last second change, she smiled and said "Don't worry about it honey." As we rode together, Tamira directed me to the Birmingham places of interest and gave me some local history. With my wallet filled with Smile Cards, I had received an amazingly pure random act of kindness myself. This simple act filled me with joy, and I thank Tamira once again. Though she didn't want her picture taken, I will not soon forget her smile. On that note, other photos will come soon in a big burst.
Better go to sleep now as I have to wake in 6 hours to bike 95 more miles: Woohoo! As I am burning through books, my question is simple: what should I read next? (Note Kerouac's Dharma Bums is on deck).
I've been having some great religion talks lately, especially as I am one of my group's few (if only) agnostic/atheist representatives. Sleeping in churches, saying prayers at Habitat sites, and meeting residents glad we are doing "the Lord's work" makes the topic simply unavoidable. Delving into the details would violate some of the group trust, but I am definitely hearing some intriguing perspectives. Yay intellectual growth! On this note, thanks to Walmart I picked up my third book of the summer (Kite Runner). I find it disheartening that a 18 store Birmingham mall had 8 places to buy sneakers and no bookstore. Kick the kicks and mind your mind.
Here in Alabama, we've been getting an amazing reception from locals and media alike. Like the prior church hosts, they've served fantastic meals and greeted us with open arms, but the response here is so heartfelt. One man making us breakfast broke down into tears of pride for our efforts, other women insisted on having photos taken with us, and all showed signs of awe and gratitude. My fellow riders and I have been discussing how wild this sort of reaction is. Even after doing 210 miles in two days, we don't feel like heroes or martyrs, just tired college kids. Yet people tell us how we inspire or touch their lives...it's startling. As for the media, three news affiliates (ABC/NBC/FOX) in Birmingham put our Habitat Build Day on their 6 pm news. In Eastern Alabama, I made the cover of the regional newspaper (click here). I may have to go superhero on all you readers...
Batman (and Bike and Build Riders): A man is just flesh and blood and can be ignored or destroyed (or tired on his/her bike). But as a symbol... as a symbol, I (we) can be incorruptible, everlasting.
Here in Birmingham, we did some rewarding and valuable work on two Habitat homes, doing a combination of siding installation, interior painting, and shelving construction. In the evening, I took a solo adventure downtown to see the site of the 1963 16th St Church bombing and stroll the streets. While a quaint city, the downtown was eerily quiet at 5:30 pm. During my roaming, a wonderful thing happened. As I entered the public bus, I realized I lacked the correct change for fare. Asking the lady in front of me for last second change, she smiled and said "Don't worry about it honey." As we rode together, Tamira directed me to the Birmingham places of interest and gave me some local history. With my wallet filled with Smile Cards, I had received an amazingly pure random act of kindness myself. This simple act filled me with joy, and I thank Tamira once again. Though she didn't want her picture taken, I will not soon forget her smile. On that note, other photos will come soon in a big burst.
Better go to sleep now as I have to wake in 6 hours to bike 95 more miles: Woohoo! As I am burning through books, my question is simple: what should I read next? (Note Kerouac's Dharma Bums is on deck).
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
The Length of a Century
102 miles. We biked it. In 90 degree heat, we bested metropolitan Atlanta traffic and navigated rural Georgia to reach Heflin, Alabama in time for amazing home-cooked fried chicken dinner. It wasn't all gravy though...it was a crazy day. Everything started brilliantly...cruising into lunch early, finding an odd Podunk museum, and savoring a local ice cream shoppe's $1 cones. Their blueberry cheesecake flavor: simply succulent. Cycling takes you to novel places like Bremen, GA, a small one street old railroad town. Meandering around town, I decided to walk into the City Hall. I was amused and amazed that the mayor's office shared a glass wall with the lobby. Any resident can see his/her elected public official at work at their leisure. If only government were so transparent at all levels...
As the day waned on, Jake and I cruised ahead, talking about community service, neighborhoods, and the peculiar sheared llamas we saw alongside the road. Things were going swimmingly as we joined up with some other riders to cruise the windy "rural-urbia." It all happened in an instant. Like many times before, a group of dogs saw our fleet of cycles and charged barking fiercely. Startled by their approach, one of our riders Anne, veered left and accidentally into a nearby rider Justin. With unfortunate speed, they tumbled together to the pavement. While Justin hopped up with only a hip scrape, Anne was left with sizable shiner and a finger needing stitches. Both were safe and without serious injuries, but the scare was real. Cycling can be dangerous, and with longer riders, concentration and energy can run low, making accidents like these much more likely. We all will strive to stay vigilant and focused over the miles ahead.
While an accident is no laughing matter, even Anne couldn't help but be amused at the rural Georgia response to our precautionary ambulance call. First an Ambucare car arrives, with an EMT in dress pants and shined shoes daintly came and surveyed the situation. Next, the fire truck came with full sires. Its disheveled driver asked Anne's name, proceeding to record in by writing it on his hand in pen. Trying to hide my shock, I offered him some paper, to which he said 'nah, this'll do." Finally, the ambulance came to take her away. Note by this time three neighbors offered their help, advice, or blackeye size comparison analysis ('looks like a golfball from here). Got to love small towns.
Tomorrow we head into Birmingham, which will be a 87 mile adventure. Like much of our routes, this winds through backstreets to make for easier riding, but adds nearly 20 miles to the start-end distance. I am excited to get back on the saddle!
All of my time in Alabama is devoted to Grandma Betty, who donated an exceedingly generous sum to the affordable housing cause. She remains my Washington expert, the woman I know to call to get the pulse of national politics. The matriarch of the Kole household, my Grandma takes on a wide array of responsibilities to help her children and grandchildren have happier, healthier lives. I love her very much and thank her for everything she has done for me.
As the day waned on, Jake and I cruised ahead, talking about community service, neighborhoods, and the peculiar sheared llamas we saw alongside the road. Things were going swimmingly as we joined up with some other riders to cruise the windy "rural-urbia." It all happened in an instant. Like many times before, a group of dogs saw our fleet of cycles and charged barking fiercely. Startled by their approach, one of our riders Anne, veered left and accidentally into a nearby rider Justin. With unfortunate speed, they tumbled together to the pavement. While Justin hopped up with only a hip scrape, Anne was left with sizable shiner and a finger needing stitches. Both were safe and without serious injuries, but the scare was real. Cycling can be dangerous, and with longer riders, concentration and energy can run low, making accidents like these much more likely. We all will strive to stay vigilant and focused over the miles ahead.
While an accident is no laughing matter, even Anne couldn't help but be amused at the rural Georgia response to our precautionary ambulance call. First an Ambucare car arrives, with an EMT in dress pants and shined shoes daintly came and surveyed the situation. Next, the fire truck came with full sires. Its disheveled driver asked Anne's name, proceeding to record in by writing it on his hand in pen. Trying to hide my shock, I offered him some paper, to which he said 'nah, this'll do." Finally, the ambulance came to take her away. Note by this time three neighbors offered their help, advice, or blackeye size comparison analysis ('looks like a golfball from here). Got to love small towns.
Tomorrow we head into Birmingham, which will be a 87 mile adventure. Like much of our routes, this winds through backstreets to make for easier riding, but adds nearly 20 miles to the start-end distance. I am excited to get back on the saddle!
All of my time in Alabama is devoted to Grandma Betty, who donated an exceedingly generous sum to the affordable housing cause. She remains my Washington expert, the woman I know to call to get the pulse of national politics. The matriarch of the Kole household, my Grandma takes on a wide array of responsibilities to help her children and grandchildren have happier, healthier lives. I love her very much and thank her for everything she has done for me.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Falwell and the Family
Another day, another ride. Today we left Athens and the exceedingly generous church that hosted us (The spread they served for dinner could have fed Xerxes' armies), heading 60 miles into Norcross, a poorer suburb of Atlanta. Tonight we are staying in a games-loaded Boys and Girls Club before our service project with Rebuilding Together, a repair focused affordable housing organization. My legs feel ready and anxious to do more riding, but I will use this bike-free day to rest for the century ride into Alabama on Monday.
With my recent non-riding time, I read one of Jerry Falwell's books, The American Family. As I expected, many of his sentiments and opinions clashed with some of my most important values of equality and tolerance. Quotes like 'Life without Christ is one disappointment after another leading to death, despair, death, and eternal damnation" certainly rubbed me the wrong way. More troubling was his descriptions of liberals and secular humanists, as he assumed malice in their heart as they "strive to tear apart the American family." He bashed feminists, homosexuals, and anyone ever distributing contraceptives. All of these viewpoints were to be expected and can explain the perceptions of many in the 'Moral Majority.' Simply put, much of the book saddened me deeply.
However, there was more to this book than extremism. Interspersed between his rants, I found some interesting points I believe are worth sharing. He voiced concern with the rampant self-centered 'me-ism' of today's society in praised pursuits of personal liberation and self-gratification. In my own life, I have tried to balance these drives with commitment to community service. Falwell advocates for deepening faith in religion. Considering my interaction with Chuck days ago, this approach seems more effective than I would usually care to admit. Falwell also makes some astute commentary on the subtle messages of television, notably regarding sexual promiscuity. He writes, "During one recent TV season, unmarried partners outnumbered married partners 24 to 1, with limited to no concern voiced about birth control or STDs." I can remember in high school watching shows that suggested that premarital sex was norm and feeling an odd mix of inadequacy and self doubt. Not that I am advocating TV censorship, but it was something so pervasive I never even thought to question. Most valuable, Falwell opened my eyes to my occasional undeserved negative reactions to initiatives and values of the Christian right. Falwell described secular humanists (like me), "In their philosophy, every person can choose his or her own values and all choices are equal with one notable exception...the traditional Christian worldview." I can think of countless liberal friends who find great intrigue in Hindu or Confucian wisdom, but would never quote the Bible. I have been so trained as a Democrat to oppose the conservative Christian base that I may be stigmatizing a perfectly valid approach to life. I need to be more open, and considering the wide array of religious backgrounds on this trip, I can hopefully grow through respectful questioning and discussion. That said, don't hurry to Amazon...it will be some time before I delve back into this propaganda-laden literature.
I would like to dedicate today's post and ride to Uncle Matt, Aunt Beth, Anna and Joseph. This wonderful family has my full love and affection, making me feel special anytime I am in their presence. I am proud to be their nephew and elder cousin and hope to always be as warm and caring as they are. Thank you for everything you do.
Work tomorrow then on to Heflin, Alabama...which will be my first century ride! So much more to come...
With my recent non-riding time, I read one of Jerry Falwell's books, The American Family. As I expected, many of his sentiments and opinions clashed with some of my most important values of equality and tolerance. Quotes like 'Life without Christ is one disappointment after another leading to death, despair, death, and eternal damnation" certainly rubbed me the wrong way. More troubling was his descriptions of liberals and secular humanists, as he assumed malice in their heart as they "strive to tear apart the American family." He bashed feminists, homosexuals, and anyone ever distributing contraceptives. All of these viewpoints were to be expected and can explain the perceptions of many in the 'Moral Majority.' Simply put, much of the book saddened me deeply.
However, there was more to this book than extremism. Interspersed between his rants, I found some interesting points I believe are worth sharing. He voiced concern with the rampant self-centered 'me-ism' of today's society in praised pursuits of personal liberation and self-gratification. In my own life, I have tried to balance these drives with commitment to community service. Falwell advocates for deepening faith in religion. Considering my interaction with Chuck days ago, this approach seems more effective than I would usually care to admit. Falwell also makes some astute commentary on the subtle messages of television, notably regarding sexual promiscuity. He writes, "During one recent TV season, unmarried partners outnumbered married partners 24 to 1, with limited to no concern voiced about birth control or STDs." I can remember in high school watching shows that suggested that premarital sex was norm and feeling an odd mix of inadequacy and self doubt. Not that I am advocating TV censorship, but it was something so pervasive I never even thought to question. Most valuable, Falwell opened my eyes to my occasional undeserved negative reactions to initiatives and values of the Christian right. Falwell described secular humanists (like me), "In their philosophy, every person can choose his or her own values and all choices are equal with one notable exception...the traditional Christian worldview." I can think of countless liberal friends who find great intrigue in Hindu or Confucian wisdom, but would never quote the Bible. I have been so trained as a Democrat to oppose the conservative Christian base that I may be stigmatizing a perfectly valid approach to life. I need to be more open, and considering the wide array of religious backgrounds on this trip, I can hopefully grow through respectful questioning and discussion. That said, don't hurry to Amazon...it will be some time before I delve back into this propaganda-laden literature.
I would like to dedicate today's post and ride to Uncle Matt, Aunt Beth, Anna and Joseph. This wonderful family has my full love and affection, making me feel special anytime I am in their presence. I am proud to be their nephew and elder cousin and hope to always be as warm and caring as they are. Thank you for everything you do.
Work tomorrow then on to Heflin, Alabama...which will be my first century ride! So much more to come...
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Into Georgia
Started June 4, concluded June 5...
Before summarizing the amazing past 24 hours, I would like to dedicate this post to Ryan Hall, another good friend of mine (and trip donor). Since the formation of the Foreign Legion, I have never known a more loyal friend. Though he can drive us crazy sometimes, Ryan has always been there for me. He even (and his lovely family) housed me for my entire senior year of high school! He is likely now in Virginia training to be a marine, also serving this nation in his own unique way. Thanks for being you.
Okay now the juicy stuff. Backtrack to dinner in Greensville at a ketch pizza place on the downtown strip. I met the family of a Bike and Build Board members and sparked a fascinating conversation with Mrs. West, a Brooklyn born home-school consultant. Learning from her expertise, I discovered home schooling has a 1 in 7 prevalence in South Carolina families and surprisingly produced better academic outcomes (GED and college degrees) than the public schools. Correcting my assumption, she told me that the choice for homeschool is rarely made for primarily religious reasons. The state provides a wealth of resources (laboratories and textbooks) to enable such education. Better results with better student freedom and parental involvement...what could be better? BUT a quick research into Greenville's gender income divide revealed the average woman made 10K less than same man. Maybe home schooling is so popular because women aren't encouraged/able to get outside jobs. Regardless, the conversation delved into many social issues, making it spectacular.
Afterwards, a bunch of the riders meandered over to see the end of the Greensville Drive baseball game (Class A). We were hooting and hollering, starting the way and dancing the Macarena. People really were starting to bond. Coming on home, we stumbled upon a glorious sight: a high school graduation after party. The Greenville Class of 2009 were congregated in the cities main park, awkwardly huddling in gender specific groups off the dance floor. I knew what needed to be done. I started breaking it down, as so many of you know I love to do, and the students started coming to life. First the pointing and laughing, but with some help from my fellow riders asking some grads to dance, we soon had the class bopping to the Electric Slide. They even gave me a commemorative cup from the school at the end of the party! I may need to drop by the 10th reunion.
Today we waved goodbye to South Carolina and biked into Hartwell, Georgia. Despite rain and getting a tad lost, I had a fantastic day on my 60+ miler. My joy may have been related to the DQ Snickers Blizzard I savored at the conclusion. In the evening, we did what any good hearted college aged kid would do in the south...go to a church mixer. Holy cow, Southern boys are big! Our Georgia native/expert Adam told me that daily weightroom visits of 2-3 hours are the norm starting in middle school. Without question, the most interesting person there was Chuck, a 26 year old church organizer. From ages 15-22, this powerful man was living 'hard,' dealing out drugs or violence to anyone coming his way. A near death experience on the street opened his eyes to the error of his misdoings, showing him "the light of God." For the last 4 years, he has worked with the troubled rural youth, organizing discussion groups, dances, and educational workshops to help them find a better way. With a wispy Fu Man Chu and flowing dreadlocks, he laughed heartily and hugged firmly at any opportunity. I guess what made this encounter so special was how it reopened the question of religion for me. It can do so much good for many, yet countries are divided and blood is shed in its name. One solution, education through collaborative interaction towards larger goals, has extensive support in psychological research literature. But how can we implement these things? Will we always be fighting misinformation and intolerance? From my evolutionary mindset, will we ever move beyond organized religion? A spiritual oneness or just a belief in shared humanity...whatever you believe...how can we motivate people to do good?
On a final note, in the hope to understand before being understood (Habit 5), I have selected a Jerry Falwell book as my next reading selection. I have many assumptions about the religious right, but its due time I opened my mind to hear their arguments. Where better to read this book than in the Bible Belt?
Photos upcoming...Now I need to go play in Athens, where I just arrived. Go Bulldogs!
Before summarizing the amazing past 24 hours, I would like to dedicate this post to Ryan Hall, another good friend of mine (and trip donor). Since the formation of the Foreign Legion, I have never known a more loyal friend. Though he can drive us crazy sometimes, Ryan has always been there for me. He even (and his lovely family) housed me for my entire senior year of high school! He is likely now in Virginia training to be a marine, also serving this nation in his own unique way. Thanks for being you.
Okay now the juicy stuff. Backtrack to dinner in Greensville at a ketch pizza place on the downtown strip. I met the family of a Bike and Build Board members and sparked a fascinating conversation with Mrs. West, a Brooklyn born home-school consultant. Learning from her expertise, I discovered home schooling has a 1 in 7 prevalence in South Carolina families and surprisingly produced better academic outcomes (GED and college degrees) than the public schools. Correcting my assumption, she told me that the choice for homeschool is rarely made for primarily religious reasons. The state provides a wealth of resources (laboratories and textbooks) to enable such education. Better results with better student freedom and parental involvement...what could be better? BUT a quick research into Greenville's gender income divide revealed the average woman made 10K less than same man. Maybe home schooling is so popular because women aren't encouraged/able to get outside jobs. Regardless, the conversation delved into many social issues, making it spectacular.
Afterwards, a bunch of the riders meandered over to see the end of the Greensville Drive baseball game (Class A). We were hooting and hollering, starting the way and dancing the Macarena. People really were starting to bond. Coming on home, we stumbled upon a glorious sight: a high school graduation after party. The Greenville Class of 2009 were congregated in the cities main park, awkwardly huddling in gender specific groups off the dance floor. I knew what needed to be done. I started breaking it down, as so many of you know I love to do, and the students started coming to life. First the pointing and laughing, but with some help from my fellow riders asking some grads to dance, we soon had the class bopping to the Electric Slide. They even gave me a commemorative cup from the school at the end of the party! I may need to drop by the 10th reunion.
Today we waved goodbye to South Carolina and biked into Hartwell, Georgia. Despite rain and getting a tad lost, I had a fantastic day on my 60+ miler. My joy may have been related to the DQ Snickers Blizzard I savored at the conclusion. In the evening, we did what any good hearted college aged kid would do in the south...go to a church mixer. Holy cow, Southern boys are big! Our Georgia native/expert Adam told me that daily weightroom visits of 2-3 hours are the norm starting in middle school. Without question, the most interesting person there was Chuck, a 26 year old church organizer. From ages 15-22, this powerful man was living 'hard,' dealing out drugs or violence to anyone coming his way. A near death experience on the street opened his eyes to the error of his misdoings, showing him "the light of God." For the last 4 years, he has worked with the troubled rural youth, organizing discussion groups, dances, and educational workshops to help them find a better way. With a wispy Fu Man Chu and flowing dreadlocks, he laughed heartily and hugged firmly at any opportunity. I guess what made this encounter so special was how it reopened the question of religion for me. It can do so much good for many, yet countries are divided and blood is shed in its name. One solution, education through collaborative interaction towards larger goals, has extensive support in psychological research literature. But how can we implement these things? Will we always be fighting misinformation and intolerance? From my evolutionary mindset, will we ever move beyond organized religion? A spiritual oneness or just a belief in shared humanity...whatever you believe...how can we motivate people to do good?
On a final note, in the hope to understand before being understood (Habit 5), I have selected a Jerry Falwell book as my next reading selection. I have many assumptions about the religious right, but its due time I opened my mind to hear their arguments. Where better to read this book than in the Bible Belt?
Photos upcoming...Now I need to go play in Athens, where I just arrived. Go Bulldogs!
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Big News
The morning routine is becoming second nature now. Wake up 10 minutes before everyone else to get personal bathroom use, suit up in spandex/jersey/ridiculous-colored-socks outfit, complete my team's chore of the week (packing the trailer), then eat a hearty breakfast of Honey Nut Cheerios + Raisin Bran mix with bananas and a dollop of peanut butter. A luxurious 70 mile ride later, I arrived in Greensville, SC. Yesterday night we feasted on Southern BBQ and explored Handlebar, a (motor-)cycle joint with a bluegrass band. A peculiar lady named Sharon tried to teach us some steps, but after our crew was certain there was no pattern whatsoever to her steps, improvised the night away. Once again, people were surprised by my willingness to groove and jive. Fun times. Today has been a lovely day off, finishing my first book of the summer (White Oleander) before perusing the blossoming city of Greensville. I took in a late breakfast at Gene's classic 1950s 'Country Diner' before rounding up a group for putt-putt. Tonight we are all going to a celebrated local pizza place, which I will be sneaking out of early with a couple riders to catch some A level minor league baseball. Pictures on Greensville will be posted in a future post.
But the title of this post promises big news, so I should deliver. I have declined my offer to Cornell this fall...instead opting to attend Penn School of Medicine. Not only is this an upgrade in quality of education, but I believe it will provide a better environment for my own personal happiness. I have many friends (and maybe some family) that will be in Philadelphia and couldn't be more excited. I guess the more apt title of this post should have been Penn Again.
This does, however, have some implications for this summer's ride. Penn starts earlier than Cornell, so I likely will need to cut my route short. I still intend to get to the Pacific Ocean, but I will not be doing so in California. On August 1, I will leave my fellow riders and head west to water in Oregon. To all those that donated, I hope you do not see this abbreviated route as any swoon in my dedication to this cause. My total riding mileage will still be at least 3,400 miles (which is more than 1,000 miles more than the direct distance between the Charleston and Santa Cruz) and I will only be missing one build day in San Jose, CA. For those of you planning to meet me in Santa Cruz, I am sorry to disappoint, but this was the right decision for me.
So in my life, this definitely qualifies as a big change. Feel free to call me (773.633.3499) if you would like to talk about this more. Otherwise, I ride on, so read on!
But the title of this post promises big news, so I should deliver. I have declined my offer to Cornell this fall...instead opting to attend Penn School of Medicine. Not only is this an upgrade in quality of education, but I believe it will provide a better environment for my own personal happiness. I have many friends (and maybe some family) that will be in Philadelphia and couldn't be more excited. I guess the more apt title of this post should have been Penn Again.
This does, however, have some implications for this summer's ride. Penn starts earlier than Cornell, so I likely will need to cut my route short. I still intend to get to the Pacific Ocean, but I will not be doing so in California. On August 1, I will leave my fellow riders and head west to water in Oregon. To all those that donated, I hope you do not see this abbreviated route as any swoon in my dedication to this cause. My total riding mileage will still be at least 3,400 miles (which is more than 1,000 miles more than the direct distance between the Charleston and Santa Cruz) and I will only be missing one build day in San Jose, CA. For those of you planning to meet me in Santa Cruz, I am sorry to disappoint, but this was the right decision for me.
So in my life, this definitely qualifies as a big change. Feel free to call me (773.633.3499) if you would like to talk about this more. Otherwise, I ride on, so read on!
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Newberry, SC
Written on June 1st...
First of all, amazing ride today. We went through sleepy rural roads, weaving through wide green pastures and friendly waving Southerners. I thoroughly enjoyed every moment of it. Part of this pleasure came from my engaging company. Determined to slow down in the morning, I spent the morning with Bryant doing some final Columbia perusing (including His House thrift shop with only $1 clothing). A Northern Virginia hipster and "a man of God," I've treasured Bryant's laid back attitude, shared quest for self-improvement, and Smiley face cycling socks. Eager to finish early and arrive in Newberry, I took a brief lunch and joined up with Sarah, a bike-addicted sophomore of Hampshire College. Discussing her college experiences and future international work aspirations, the miles flew by. We arrived first at the church, meeting a welcoming staff eager to make us comfortable.
First of all, amazing ride today. We went through sleepy rural roads, weaving through wide green pastures and friendly waving Southerners. I thoroughly enjoyed every moment of it. Part of this pleasure came from my engaging company. Determined to slow down in the morning, I spent the morning with Bryant doing some final Columbia perusing (including His House thrift shop with only $1 clothing). A Northern Virginia hipster and "a man of God," I've treasured Bryant's laid back attitude, shared quest for self-improvement, and Smiley face cycling socks. Eager to finish early and arrive in Newberry, I took a brief lunch and joined up with Sarah, a bike-addicted sophomore of Hampshire College. Discussing her college experiences and future international work aspirations, the miles flew by. We arrived first at the church, meeting a welcoming staff eager to make us comfortable.
Sauntering around Newberry, we came upon a small monument for Calvin Crozier. Reading the vague inscription, it seemed this town was celebrating the life of a man who killed black Union soldiers in 1865. I was horrified, my mind running down a trail of assumed racism. To clarify, I quickly headed to the public library. A moment of research clarified my leap in judgement. Crozier had killed black soldiers who were mistreating a woman, and when the town members blamed an innocent local black man, he stood tall and took the blame, admitting his guilt and assuring his death. He is a honorable hero. Why do I share this? So you are aware of the power of preconceptions and how it colors your perceptions. Never truly experiencing the rural South, my mind jumped to the negative, painting a picture from anecdotes and SNL jokes. Don't do the same.
I have photos! You can see them here.
This post is dedicated to Eranda Jayawickreme, a teacher of mine from the University of Pennsylvania Psychology Department. Both in Political Psychology and Positive Psychology, Eranda introduced me to fascinating new topics and encouraged student interaction. Outside the classroom, we found similar interests abound, frequently bumping into each other at lectures or Clark Park farmer's markets. I consider him a friend and thank him greatly for his donation.
Monday, June 1, 2009
South Carolina Ramblings
From a rustic campsite overrun with mayflies, we rode 56 hilly miles into South Carolina's capital city: Columbia. As I write within their public library, racing against my time limit, I will try and share a series of thoughts as fast as possible. Here goes...
Chatted with a man named Rodrick on the road yesterday...A record holding running back, he was the toast of his junior college up North. But after his mother and brother died in a double homicide, he moved to rural SC. Though saddened by his loss, what I will most remember is his career directions. When I told him I was from Chicago, he told me was planning to start a contracting business with Michael Jordan as the CEO. I friendly asked how he knew MJ, and he responded that he wrote His Airness a letter, so he is expecting an answer any day now. In all politeness, why is he so deluded? He was a healthy and humorous man in his mid twenties, an abled bodied American with a family tragedy. Why couldn't he rebound? Did he lack ample education? What type of support did he receive, family or friends or governmental, in his time of loss? Could we all fall so hard?
Now in Columbia, I cannot help but notice the stark contrasts found in this quaint city. Home to the University of South Carolina Gamecocks, certain districts boast shoppes like Loose Lucy's filled Bob Marley memorabilia and hipster cafes serving only vegan or organic items. The campus itself has a colonial feel, with beautiful rolling greens leading up to pillared, white roofed brick mansions and libraries. Yet roll a tad off the beaten track, and the change is inevitable. In a city with a poverty rate at 20%, the pockets of dilapidation have even spread to many seemingly central locations. Chatting with Olde and Booger, two 15-17 year olds roaming the streets, they complain about boring Sundays (almost EVERYTHING was closed in this conservative haven) and the uncool white college students (fortunately I was not in this category, I didn't call them 'brother' or down talk to them). I am instantly reminded of Hyde Park and West Philadelphia, where diversity and understanding are praised within the 'walls,' but blocks outside the same racial divide pervades. Not politically segregated maybe, but certainly socially. What's the answer here?
There are a ton of churches in the South. Wow.
I am eating more peanut butter than can be imagined. If you are considering sending me food on this route, please do not send anything even remotely related to legume based spread.
Though I can forsee the tiredness coming, his trip is fun! Cycling, Southern heat and all, can really be fascinating and invigorating. Having done spells solo as well as in clusters, I have developed a distinct preference for group riding. Conversations are surprisingly feasible, even in single file on fairly busy roads. I have been riding in the front pack of 3-5 people, blazing the trail with chalk and finding the sweet photo ops. (Speaking of which, more will come later)Plus, finishing early gives you time to savor the post trip bodily slowdown before jumping into chores and local exploration.
Final thought: Wendy's Frosties are fantastic after a day ride. This is a Fast Food Nation and I'm loving it.
Chatted with a man named Rodrick on the road yesterday...A record holding running back, he was the toast of his junior college up North. But after his mother and brother died in a double homicide, he moved to rural SC. Though saddened by his loss, what I will most remember is his career directions. When I told him I was from Chicago, he told me was planning to start a contracting business with Michael Jordan as the CEO. I friendly asked how he knew MJ, and he responded that he wrote His Airness a letter, so he is expecting an answer any day now. In all politeness, why is he so deluded? He was a healthy and humorous man in his mid twenties, an abled bodied American with a family tragedy. Why couldn't he rebound? Did he lack ample education? What type of support did he receive, family or friends or governmental, in his time of loss? Could we all fall so hard?
Now in Columbia, I cannot help but notice the stark contrasts found in this quaint city. Home to the University of South Carolina Gamecocks, certain districts boast shoppes like Loose Lucy's filled Bob Marley memorabilia and hipster cafes serving only vegan or organic items. The campus itself has a colonial feel, with beautiful rolling greens leading up to pillared, white roofed brick mansions and libraries. Yet roll a tad off the beaten track, and the change is inevitable. In a city with a poverty rate at 20%, the pockets of dilapidation have even spread to many seemingly central locations. Chatting with Olde and Booger, two 15-17 year olds roaming the streets, they complain about boring Sundays (almost EVERYTHING was closed in this conservative haven) and the uncool white college students (fortunately I was not in this category, I didn't call them 'brother' or down talk to them). I am instantly reminded of Hyde Park and West Philadelphia, where diversity and understanding are praised within the 'walls,' but blocks outside the same racial divide pervades. Not politically segregated maybe, but certainly socially. What's the answer here?
There are a ton of churches in the South. Wow.
I am eating more peanut butter than can be imagined. If you are considering sending me food on this route, please do not send anything even remotely related to legume based spread.
Though I can forsee the tiredness coming, his trip is fun! Cycling, Southern heat and all, can really be fascinating and invigorating. Having done spells solo as well as in clusters, I have developed a distinct preference for group riding. Conversations are surprisingly feasible, even in single file on fairly busy roads. I have been riding in the front pack of 3-5 people, blazing the trail with chalk and finding the sweet photo ops. (Speaking of which, more will come later)Plus, finishing early gives you time to savor the post trip bodily slowdown before jumping into chores and local exploration.
Final thought: Wendy's Frosties are fantastic after a day ride. This is a Fast Food Nation and I'm loving it.
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