"Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" A good friend of mine attaches this Mary Oliver quote to the end of all of her e-mails. An entire essay could be written to respond to this question, breaking it down and defining what each word means to me. Put simply, I'd say plans in our precious lives should be open to wild adventures!
I write from Washington D.C. where I've just celebrated my 28th birthday! It was a grand affair - Spain won the Euro Cup and Sussex mates - Julia, Nicole and I went to Alero for margaritas! Waiters caught wind it was my birthday and before I knew it a sombrero was plopped on my head, the room was singing and a big piece of "tres leches" cake was set in front of me.
You may be wondering why I'm already in D.C. The story takes time to tell and is entertaining but I'll give you an abbreviated version. I was pedaling through the bourbon capital of the world in the heartland of Kentucky when I decided to stop. This cross country journey has been a bit of an internal tug-of-war; I've loved the day-to-day movement through new sights and sounds, but equally, I've felt a pull to pause and really get to know some of the places we've passed through. Bardstown, Kentucky is one of them.
Twenty eight miles outside of Bardstown I met Jinpa, a cyclist from Colorado who will be cruising through New England and up into Canada. We chatted our way into the city but had to stop briefly and check my rear and front wheels a few miles after I hit a destructive divet in the road. The collateral damage was a hop in each wheel, which is really annoying but generally still safe to ride on.
Upon reaching Bardstown I reunited with my group and introduced Jinpa. We all sat on a curb with our legs extended, exchanging the usual cyclist banter and sharing a juicy melon. We talked about the week to come - Aremy and Alex were hoping to ride 700 miles in 7 days, Jinpa was going to chill out for awhile and then head up to Louisville to visit a friend. One thing led to another and I was invited to join Jinpa; I accepted the offer and the rest is history.
To some this decision might sound bamboozling, to others, quite Elise-like! My Daddio said - "Elise, this is so much like you!" I suppose he was talking about my spontaneous spirit and curious self. I believe there is great value in yielding to the moment. The conversations that have resulted from it have been remarkable - with Jinpa (in Bardstown) about Buddhist philosophy; Austin, (in Louisville) about a possible new touring bike: the Jamis Aurora Elite; Hector from Veracruz, Mexico (on a Greyhound bus) and his perspectives as a seasonal worker in the U.S.; and with Saeed, a Muslim man from Egypt - a lawyer there and a taxi driver here - who is hoping to feel more at home and accepted.
Stay tuned for more to come -
I think I'm really starting to like this writing business.
28 June 2008
21 June 2008
Two days ago we crossed the Ohio River by ferry - leaving the Shawnee State Park area in southern Illinois and entering the pennyrile region in western Kentucky! The landscape continues to be rolling but orange daylilies have replaced the echinacea I saw throughout Missouri and Illinois alongside the road.
Cyclists we've met in passing have issued the following caveat - beware of unfriendly dogs in Kentucky! A group of bikers traveling west under the auspices of Adventure Cycling said their pannier bags were ripped open by one feisty fellow. We've got one can of pepper spray but it isn't in my handlebar bag. Aremy keeps it close and I don't think she is willing to give it up! I wouldn't want to either.
Our group has settled into a comfortable routine. Aremy is our alarm clock and likes to rise early. The rest of us are always trying to convince her to let us sleep in a bit later. Every morning Max gets up last, and Alex spends most of his time trying to cajole him out of his sleeping bag. Max is our time keeper; he's the only one with a watch on the trip. Alex is our official guide; he carries the map and has only mis-led us twice! I lock up our bikes each night; luckily, we've had no problems with theft.
We've picked up our pace and must get to Virginia in the next ten days. I've bought my flight back to Minneapolis and will arrive on the 5th of July! Wishing ya'll well from the junction of Hwy 84 and 920 in rural Kentucky. I've just had a super serving of strawberry ice cream and I'm spent.
Cyclists we've met in passing have issued the following caveat - beware of unfriendly dogs in Kentucky! A group of bikers traveling west under the auspices of Adventure Cycling said their pannier bags were ripped open by one feisty fellow. We've got one can of pepper spray but it isn't in my handlebar bag. Aremy keeps it close and I don't think she is willing to give it up! I wouldn't want to either.
Our group has settled into a comfortable routine. Aremy is our alarm clock and likes to rise early. The rest of us are always trying to convince her to let us sleep in a bit later. Every morning Max gets up last, and Alex spends most of his time trying to cajole him out of his sleeping bag. Max is our time keeper; he's the only one with a watch on the trip. Alex is our official guide; he carries the map and has only mis-led us twice! I lock up our bikes each night; luckily, we've had no problems with theft.
We've picked up our pace and must get to Virginia in the next ten days. I've bought my flight back to Minneapolis and will arrive on the 5th of July! Wishing ya'll well from the junction of Hwy 84 and 920 in rural Kentucky. I've just had a super serving of strawberry ice cream and I'm spent.
13 June 2008
Alex and Aremy woke up this a.m. floating. We'd pitched our tents alongside a creek in Girard's city park - which I guess was a mistake! There really is something to the cliche "hindsight is 20-20" isn't there?! I can only imagine what people are experiencing in Iowa with all of the flooding. The rain pelted us throughout the night; the crashing thunder and flashing lightening allowed us little sleep. At 6 a.m. we surrendered and shifted soaked sleeping bags and thermarests along with our shivering selves under an open-air gazebo. I pulled out my headlamp and sat, pen in hand scribbling in my journal. Max babbled on and on about checking into a hotel room, Aremy and Alex pulled out OJ and Shredded Wheat for an early breakfast.
Aside from a few sprinkler surprises we've mostly stayed dry on the trip. We're lucky really. Snow in Nevada and a swift hail storm in Colorado stalled us momentarily, but altogether, Mother Nature has been quite kind to us. We're almost all of the way through Kansas, with only four miles to Missouri. This afternoon we'll leave the windy plains and enter the limestone Ozarks!
Initially, I'd had a bit of trepidation towards leaving the scenic vistas of Nevada's mountains, Utah's cliffs and canyons and Colorado's 14er summits. I felt pretty sure I'd get bored with the flat-lands in Kansas. Wow, was I wrong! There's been so much to see - like wildlife - we had an antelope chasing us a few days ago, there was the cutest baby fox which crossed our path, and did you know that there are zebra here too? Well, not naturally of course, they belonged to a nature conservatory.
The shaded colors of grain are breathtaking as well - deep amber, light amaranth, turmeric tans and khaki browns paint the landscape. Then, we've met a slew of cyclists pedaling east to west in Kansas, too! Most are riding in two's or three's; the largest group was an eclectic mix of six: two from the Netherlands teamed up with a couple in their sixties from Virginia, along with a 19 yr. old cycling to college in Boulder, Colorado, and a 20-something yr. old guy raising money for leukemia.
I've just been alerted my time is almost up. Have got to strap on my Axo cycling shoes and clip into my pedals. Wishing you all well and have a great weekend!
Aside from a few sprinkler surprises we've mostly stayed dry on the trip. We're lucky really. Snow in Nevada and a swift hail storm in Colorado stalled us momentarily, but altogether, Mother Nature has been quite kind to us. We're almost all of the way through Kansas, with only four miles to Missouri. This afternoon we'll leave the windy plains and enter the limestone Ozarks!
Initially, I'd had a bit of trepidation towards leaving the scenic vistas of Nevada's mountains, Utah's cliffs and canyons and Colorado's 14er summits. I felt pretty sure I'd get bored with the flat-lands in Kansas. Wow, was I wrong! There's been so much to see - like wildlife - we had an antelope chasing us a few days ago, there was the cutest baby fox which crossed our path, and did you know that there are zebra here too? Well, not naturally of course, they belonged to a nature conservatory.
The shaded colors of grain are breathtaking as well - deep amber, light amaranth, turmeric tans and khaki browns paint the landscape. Then, we've met a slew of cyclists pedaling east to west in Kansas, too! Most are riding in two's or three's; the largest group was an eclectic mix of six: two from the Netherlands teamed up with a couple in their sixties from Virginia, along with a 19 yr. old cycling to college in Boulder, Colorado, and a 20-something yr. old guy raising money for leukemia.
I've just been alerted my time is almost up. Have got to strap on my Axo cycling shoes and clip into my pedals. Wishing you all well and have a great weekend!
06 June 2008
Inching towards Kansas
Each time I sit in front of a computer to post to my blog I go blank. It's difficult to convey the panoramic picture of life on the road. Some days seem interminable while others zip by as if in fast-forward mode. Both command a great deal of energy, and physical exhaustion definitely takes its toll on one's brain.
I notice my creativity has suffered; parsimony guides my blog entries - they're detail-oriented, short and somewhat story-less. I've also picked up a drooling habit at night. I must be so zonked I can't even keep my mouth shut. A couple of days ago I introduced myself as "Max" (he was sitting to my left), and before that I mixed up time zones and phoned a friend at midnight! This a.m. I read the paper and thought to myself - "is it really Friday, June 6th?!"
I write from The Black Forest, which is about 25 miles north of Colorado Springs. Annie's auntie and uncle are generously hosting us. Colorado has been remarkable in many ways; the hospitality we've been shown has been especially appreciated. Our first night in Dove Creek, Colorado we were invited to Jess and Lisa's home, a couple we seemingly met by chance but instantly felt closely connected with. Our second day in Colorado we went to Durango and stayed with Deb, a good friend Aremy met while working on a tree farm in Minnesota.
After patching tires and cleaning chains this morning we'll hit the road again, and fingers crossed, we'll be in Kansas in the next two days! If only we could click our heels in ruby red shoes three times to take us directly there...
I notice my creativity has suffered; parsimony guides my blog entries - they're detail-oriented, short and somewhat story-less. I've also picked up a drooling habit at night. I must be so zonked I can't even keep my mouth shut. A couple of days ago I introduced myself as "Max" (he was sitting to my left), and before that I mixed up time zones and phoned a friend at midnight! This a.m. I read the paper and thought to myself - "is it really Friday, June 6th?!"
I write from The Black Forest, which is about 25 miles north of Colorado Springs. Annie's auntie and uncle are generously hosting us. Colorado has been remarkable in many ways; the hospitality we've been shown has been especially appreciated. Our first night in Dove Creek, Colorado we were invited to Jess and Lisa's home, a couple we seemingly met by chance but instantly felt closely connected with. Our second day in Colorado we went to Durango and stayed with Deb, a good friend Aremy met while working on a tree farm in Minnesota.
After patching tires and cleaning chains this morning we'll hit the road again, and fingers crossed, we'll be in Kansas in the next two days! If only we could click our heels in ruby red shoes three times to take us directly there...
03 June 2008
Greetings from Gunnison, Colorado!
Whoo hooooooooooo, to date we've logged ~1300 miles, crossed three states and I've only had one flat tire! I had a puncture this afternoon just before our second summit. Alex and Max are our expert bike technicians so I was well taken care of - I've learned loads about fixing flat tires, "truing spokes", adjusting "limit screws", and keeping up with chain maintenance in the past couple of days.
Our legs were fresh this a.m. after taking a rest day in Durango, CO yesterday. We'll be especially appreciative tomorrow, as we pedal towards Monarch Pass at 11,500 feet! This will be our last big climb before hitting the plains in Kansas. Our fingers are crossed we'll favorably have winds to our backs and will miss any twisters. Must sign off for now - go find a shower, fill a grumbling tummy and then pop up the tent. Ciao!
Our legs were fresh this a.m. after taking a rest day in Durango, CO yesterday. We'll be especially appreciative tomorrow, as we pedal towards Monarch Pass at 11,500 feet! This will be our last big climb before hitting the plains in Kansas. Our fingers are crossed we'll favorably have winds to our backs and will miss any twisters. Must sign off for now - go find a shower, fill a grumbling tummy and then pop up the tent. Ciao!
01 June 2008
Somewhere between Cedar City and Panguitch, Utah!
This was an epic climbing day - over 4,000 ft! Hungry bellies commanded we stop for tomato & cucumber sandwiches half-way through.
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