hurricanes, gators, fema and fun

So, when you heard from us last, we were feeling slightly down and out. We had been wet for multiple days straight and the areas we were going through were slightly depressing. Then we came about the Grand Chanier library. The women there gave us cookies, punch and cheer. When we were getting ready to leave they told us they had called their friend "Miss Frankie". She had an extra FEMA trailor she was willing to lend us for the night. Everything got brighter from there out. We rolled over to Miss Frankie's. She got us set up in the extra trailer and invited us over to visit when we felt comfortable.



Ira and I washed up and went over avisitin. Frankie and her husband Guy immediatly offered us some beer and snacks as we sat down to discuss the pertinent issues; our bike trip and hurricane Rita. Cameron Parish, which is the largest and most sparsly populated parish in Louisana,was totally devistated by hurricane Rita. They complained it didn't get as much press as Catriana, because it affected less people. However, almost everyone in the parish lost almost everything. Total devistation could be seen everywhere. There are barely any buildings left standing. Everyone is living in trailers brought in after the storm. They felt because they recieved less press coverage, they were virtually ignored when it came to federal aid. Beside that no one was recieving any insurance money. It's a real mess down here. There is no overall hurricane insurance, you need flood insurance and wind insurance. No one is recieving any money because when people file a claim with the flood insurance, they're told it isn't covered because it's actually damage caused by the winds. When they try to file for Wind damage, they are told it's water damage. Here the real enemy seems to be the greedy insurance companies. Left to fend for themselves, the people who have money to repair their houses are still working on them, two years later. While most are left trying to finagle more time with Fema to keep the trailers. Frankie joked they were true Cajuns, they owned two boats and no houses.

"Before the storm" is a constant phrase you hear down here. They speak of before in whistful terms. Now they are all force into a reality of rebuilding what little the have left and replacing what was lost to recreate the lives they once had. Everyone down here seems pretty stoic about the whole stituation though. They understand if you live down here, the storms come with the package. The true resentment comes into play when they talk about the betrayal they feel from the insurance companies which was to be their security blanket. Guy spoke of a WWII veteran he was friends with who broke down in tears in a conversation about his insurance situation. He lost his house as well as his business and all his equipment during the storm. When he filed his insurances claims he was turned down on all of them. He said, he would be ok with it, if he could be refunded every premium he had been religously paying over the past 40 years.

While we chatted, Frankie was busy cookin up some fresh shrimp they had just caught in the river behind their house. They spoke of all the amazing seafood which is just within reach of their house, shrimp, crawdads, crabs etc. Guy goes offshore fishing where he catches red snapper and other large fish i can't remember the names of. They bragged before the storm they had multiple chest freezers full of seafood. They have tons of aligators in the river across the street. Frankie was telling us of the pet gator she had when she was a kid. Her dad would go out with the scraps of shrip and crab, "slappin the mud" to get Timmy's attention. They finally had to let him go when he got over 5 ft long, because he was beginning to get a little dangerous.

The next morning, Frankie sent us off not only well rested, but with bags overflowing with foodstuffs she had been given after the storm. We were treated wtih true southern hospitality and generosity.


I feel very well rested and dry after getting rained on in the tent for the past three nights.


Here is Ira and Miss Frankie.

Frankie even called up her mama "Miss Lou" who owned Chateau Vermillian, a bed and breakfast 60 miles up the road and arranged for us to stay the night with her. "I'll just tell her y'all are too poor to pay any money". Miss Lou was as gracious and fun as her daughter. We had fun staying up chatting. She gave us doses of her "medicine", which I was quite happy to partake of since scotch is one of my very favorite drinks.


Miss Lou and myself.

Situations like these are what makes this trip so worth while. I love meeting new people, and meeting local people is the best way to have an authentic experience.

being on the beach makes you contemplate your existance

what does it all mean?

beach resort for paranoid militia extremists

its bulletproof and if it floods, we believe it will float.

too many blogs.

I recently joined myspace, which i avoided for a long time. I finally broke down and now I'm addicted which happens to everyone i guess. Anyhow, i started a myspace blog and I've been writting posts for each. Ira was commenting on the fact I've been putting more of the funny pics on that one, and being too serious on this one. I was trying to do different things with each, but it is true. I want this site to be honest and fun as well. So for the very few of you who may read my other blog, I appologize if you see some repitions.

Louisiana is wet

So many waterfowl everywhere. We've been seeing tons of cranes, pelicans, cormorants, birds with curved beaks I don't know what they're called. Its really great. Our friend Marian, who is from Texas, and her father are really into birding. This makes sense, seeing all the different species to be found down here.



We're in Louisiana now. The weather here is very fickel. We camped on the beach off the side of the road.



it rained on us all night, and then cleared up this morning. Then by midafternoon it was pouring again. Ira and I parked it under an overhang of an abandonded gas station (Damaged by hurricane Rita) to wait out the downpour. We waited over an hour and realized we should get back on the road, rain or no rain.



We've been seeing a lot of hurricane damage along the way. The first town we passed through was Holly Beach. It was totally gone. It is now made up of a few trailers and mobile homes.




We've ended up at a Library in Grand Chenier during their St. Patties party. They fed us green cookies and punch. So the day is ending well.

Down and out on the Gulf.

"RITA SUCKS- NO, SHE BLEW. HOPE YOUR[sic] INSURED!"

This was spraypainted on a huge rusty oil tank resting on it's side between Highway 82 and the Gulf Shore beach. The road leading into Cameron Parish, LA is barely two lanes and there's not a foot of it not bordered by trash from Hurricane Rita. Complete towns were reduced to foundations in 2005 and are still mostly trashed, with people living in Campers and trailers on leveled lots. It's obvious most of this Parish wasn't insured because ninety percent has not been rebuilt. It's hard not to get emotional riding though miles of peoples lives strewn though water-filled ditches. Everything is out there, from lamps to lawnmowers to the contents of china cabinets.





Rain down here feels like someone turned on a gigantic shower head and then left for a month vacation. It blasts down at full intensity for hours on end, and we just spent the day riding in it.

This isn't anything like the last part of the ride. The scenery alternates between grim and boring and the weather sucks. Like Texas, Louisianans have been kind and welcoming to us, but unlike the West, this isn't a place people go on vacation. Admittedly, the isolated beaches are beautiful. Highway 82 feels more like the frontier than anything out West, probably a combination of the hurricane damage and most of the residents being roughnecks who work the offshore oilrigs. Andrea quickly noticed that she was the only woman on the Cameron Ferry and also in the packed Hurricane Cafe in town, other than the women behind the counter. I don't want to sound ungrateful, Louisiana, but if things don't change, I'd like to get out of here as soon as possible.

We're headed into coastal Louisiana...

We don't expect to see many towns in the next few days, so wish us luck!

footprints on the boardwalk

Talkin' roadkill...

Is the Texas Gulf really boring enough that I'm posting about roadkill? I've actually always been fascinated, but the fact it's flat and and most of the scenery is repetitive has focused more attention on the roadside abattoir. Each region has it's own flavor: we saw young moose in the Idaho panhandle, and there were rattlesnakes all over Wyoming and South Dakota. I don't take pictures, but please use your imagination.

Texas highlights:

Armadillo - I've never seen one in the wild, but there was a fresh one on the yellow line the other day. Reminds me of a Jim Hightower book.

Feral Hogs - Two so far, both late-on in decomposition. One a boar with tusks.

Rattle Snakes - I thought it was a palm branch this morning because it was laying in a puddle by the beach. Nearly four feet long.

Deer - Not that exciting unless you're from the city, but these are everywhere. I found a cool two-point antler by the roadside and it's strapped to my rack.

Birds - Dead vultures are meta roadkill. I wonder if they eat each other? Lots of Terns by the Gulf, and no pelicans so far which is nice because they are my new favorite bird.

Skunks - A live one was poking around our campsite a few nights ago, but many others are not as lucky.

Turtles - I helped a big box turtle cross the road. It seems wrong when these guys get smooshed by some teenager in a truck just off the assembly line because they can live to be over a hundred years old and deserve respect.

sleepin on the beach is very messy

Well, we've been camping on the beach a lot lately. The sand here on the gulf is insideous. it gets everywhere! it is so fine, it is hard to wipe off. here are a couple more nights on the road.

Padre Island


Lighthouse beach campground, Port Lavaca, TX.


Johnny and Angie let us camp on their property on Payton Creek. We were here on sat. night. the locals like to haul ass down this waterway in their boats for sat. night fun. it looked fun, everyone waved at us, but no one offered us a ride. oh well.



sunset on payton creek, Wadsworth, TX



we spent last night here, oh my god. we got attacked with huge rain pellets for 7 hours straight. i have never experienced a downpour like this before, and in a tent. everything was wet. we were trying to laugh about it, but it was one of those premptive laughts. the kind you know you'll feel later, but deffinitly not in the moment.

i didn't get a shot of the tent because it was dark when we got it up and it was all we could do taking it down to keep from wanting to just head to the nearest airport.



We spent last night with Helen and Phillip down here in Galveston. It was so nice to be in a house, to do laundry and be dry. This bed was super comfortable, like sleeping on clouds. It was just what I needed!

sunset on the gulf and a bird

here are some pics i like.

were we've been staying

here are some pics of our lodgings so far.

second night, at will's house. Austin, TX



day three, at haleh's house. Austin, TX


Day 4 and 5, Emily's parents Jimmy and Linda's house. Wimberley TX


Day six: city park in Stockdale, TX


Day seven: city park in Beeville, TX


Day eight: on causeway, Arnasas Pass, TX (on the Gulf)


So far no money has been spent on lodging. people in texas are realy nice!

This feels the way I remember, although flatter.

We've been riding into the wind for the last three days straight. My face is burned, my legs feel like water, and I'm happy to have finally reached the Gulf of Mexico.

Texans have overwhelming state pride, there must be a law here that you can't display a U.S. flag without a Texas flag. I don't mind at all because these are the friendliest people we've met. This is the first time that every town has let us camp in their park, and people go out of their way to help out. All of the signs say "State Law" on the bottom, as if no one gave two shits about the Federal ones.

I can't stop salivating at the smell of Pecan smoke, thanks to the mind-blowing barbeque served up by our friend Emily's family. Top-notch folks in every way. I've been dreaming up ways of convincing them to adopt me ever since we left their place in Wimberly. We stayed two nights and Emily drove us to San Antonio to see the Alamo. We left with our spiritual batteries charged, ready to face anything the road could throw at us.

Speaking of which: this wind. Please stop blowing, you are making me want to die. The sunburn is ok, it just makes me look stupid, which I can handle. Once again, note to the wind: Stop.

"What it do?"

Austin has great rap radio. I'm stoked about being in the durrty south- everything sounds like a Swisha House mixtape. One of our new friends in Austin even told us that she just ordered a grill.

The public radio station, KUT, is high quality as well. I wish we had more time to soak up the culture, but it feels neccesary to be back on the bikes and putting miles behind us.

so we put the bikes together yesturday. it is strange, i thought it would be wierd to get back on them. get used to riding loaded bikes (which are really wobbly at first until you get used to it) but ira and i were both commenting it felt totally normal.







sorry about the reflectors, they make it really hard to take pictures.

So Ira and I are both really anxious to get on the road but we feel like we should hang out here for a couple of days to check out the city. Last night we went over to South Congress where they were having "first thursday" which they have every month. Its like a sidewalk arts and crafts thing with street music and food. We got these amazing hickory smoked turkey legs for $1 a piece, and they were huge!! I felt very primal knawing off the bone. I think Ira just felt very masculine.



We checked out the thrift, antique and chotchke places up and down the strip and ira had to drag me out of a couple because i was bound and determined on spending money i shouldn't on a set of 8 square dancing high ball glasses. (i collect glasses ok, its my vice). Then he was dragging me out of the boot shop. It was very clear I couldn't get a pair tho at $350 and up.



more later.

The stars at night...

Ok, y'all, we made it. We got into Austin TX today at 5:05 p.m.

Our day started at 8:00 a.m. We had all our baggage ready.



I ordered the minivan cab for 10 a.m. to get us to midway airport. Me, being a neurotic worry wart, I scheduled it for 4 hours before our flight was to leave to make up for any problems we might encounter of not fitting our stuff in. It all fit, luckily.





It only took us 30 minutes to get to the airport, so we were there 3 1/2 hours early. Well, better to be early then late.



Ira is feelin the stress as we wait to check in our mountain of baggage. I went from a key chain with tons of keys, my parents house, my sister's house, my aunts house, andy's house (all the places I've been staying) and keys to my parents car to only one key: my bike lock. Less keys, less responsibilities.



I kept saying, if we can just get on the plane, I'll be fine. I'm feeling pretty good here.



We got to Austin, and Walt, someone we hooked up with off the warm showers list, came and picked us up with his truck. We then went out to dinner at the Third Base which is a great new bar Walt's son Michael opened just three weeks ago. It was great food and packed. We then came back to his house where we have been supplied with great digs for the night.



So as you can see, we're back on the road and roughin it.

The stars at night are big and bright (at least the capitol building deffinitly is) deep in the heart of Texas.

jumping off the cliff, a second time

Andrea checking in again. Well, sorry all for being so incommunicado for the past three months. I left off here, telling you all about how I was trying to reintegrate myself into a normal life again. I was living in Flint, staying with my parents working a temporary holiday job. I wish I could tell you everything went well while I was there, but that would not be entirely true. This past couple of months has brought on a lot of emotional turmoil and concepts for contemplation. To be brief, I have been struggling with a lot of issues of self identity.

I have come to realize I define myself largely by what I "do". I wasn't doing much while in Flint. Don't get me wrong, I really like Flint, I think it is an awesome town. I just wasn't in a position of doing much, only working part time. I started to get depressed and started doing even less then before. Living with your parents after a long time away from home is difficult. I truly wanted to be a good citizen but slowly started to fade into old patterns of lazing around the house and not helping out because I didn't absolutly have to. I realize, I need a structured life to keep me feeling positive. I need to move forward not dangle in some temporary thing. I value work, and I value supporting yourself. I wasn't really doing this while in Michigan and it took it's toll.

I knew embarking on this adventure, there would be hard times. I like being comfortable, I have always liked having my spot with all my stuff. I am not zen, I can't just give up everything and be content. (that's why everything is in storage.) I was concerned I wasn't going to like the transient life, yet was surprised at how well I felt I was coping with the first part of being on the road. It was when we stopped everything came into focus. Being around others who are so settled in their lives, and not really being settled in my own life was hard. I am a control freak therefore I like to have control over my environment, and this just hasn't been possible lately. I've been feeling lost and afraid. I also have been suffering from panic attacks that leave me paralyzed with fear of "are we doing the right thing?", "should I just quit all this and go back to a regular life...will that get rid of this fear?" The fear and panic I feel seem slightly irrational when looked at from the outside. My friends say, well, you know, you are going back on the road soon, so why are you getting stressed out about it. But what if it doesn't go away, I ask. Lately the fear has been all consuming, almost to the point of making me want to quit this trip. This trip which has been my dream for so long.

I'm no quitter though. I have to move forward. It is part of how I define myself. I have been feeling lost, and quite honestly I don't know if I can make it another six months on the road without having a breakdown. But I'm not quitting without trying. The problem with saying you want to have an experience that will change your life is, it does change your life. Things change, and you have to deal with that...the good and the bad. Its not like things change, the clouds open up, God comes out and says "my child, you have been strong and brave, you will lead a very successful life with no problems from here on out." No. Things have changed but I'm not sure how. All I know is, I feel differently and I need to redefine myself. This is uncomfortable, but so necessary. I've been working on allowing the panic to move through me, but not take over. I'm working on allowing myself to feel uncomfortable in my own skin. I'm trying to deal with the concept life is out of my control and this is ok. These issues have almost been harder if not as hard as climbing a mountain pass or sleeping in a cold damp sleeping bag during a horrific rainstorm or getting dehydrated and sunburnt from riding through 100 degree weather.

That's all part of the journey. I knew it was going to be hard, I guess I just didn't know what aspects were going to be hard and how they were going to affect me. Ira and I have been talking about this blog. People who have kept reading have commented on how it hasn't been so positive lately. But this is the true experience. Its so important to see the struggle, not just the physical but emotion and psychological struggle which is so integral to this. Hard times are necessary to appriciate the good ones. I know this all may sound trite, but you know some times you have too look in the mirror and say

I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and gosh darnit people like me.

anyhow, enough psycho babble. I just felt, I couldn't move on with this blog without telling you what I've been going through. So the whole picture could be seen and understood.

Thanks for all of you who have supported us, it means everything. Tomorrow we're off to Texas to do it again. Getting ready to jump, can't think about it. Just have to get a running start and go.

The touring bikes are in boxes...

And I figured out why my derailleur was clicking.

Blizzard Party 2K7

Chicago kids are crazy when it comes to extreme weather. Half-way through our going-away party last night I stepped out on the front porch and saw no less than twelve bikes locked to the front gate, all coated in ice, sleet, and snow. Some of our first guests rode fourteen miles before arriving. Andrea and I were floored by how many people braved the storm to give us a send-off.



Find yourself in the party pictures.

We're going to miss everyone so much over the upcoming months, and a part of me wants to just stay here in the comfort of all that is familiar.

Those of you who couldn't make the party, we'll be back before you know it. Stay in touch and we'll keep writing and taking pictures for you.

Late hours at the bike shop.

I started fixing the bikes yesterday. They're covered with dirt from all over the West.

So far, Andrea's has new handlebars because she crashed on Vancouver Island. She's also getting a new chain, a fancy new old-stock Suntour freewheel, and all of her bearings repacked. Can you smell the fresh grease?

For added olfactory pleasure, Andrea's bike box came with dirty clothes from three months ago!

I'm going to need to fix my rear fender, which was smashed when the wheel can loose in Portland, and jury-rigged since then. There's also the business of my drive-train clicking, probably needing new parts. All of this needs to happen in the next three days, and I admit I'm panicking.

The best solution is obviously to party tonight and drink whiskey, which we will do.

I bought plane tickets yesterday.

We're flying to Austin on February 28th. Hello warm weather! There's a lot of work to be done in the next week. I'll be tuning the bikes, putting my things back in storage, and tying up loose ends.

Snopocalypse

Despite blizzard warnings throughout Cook County...



Andrea and I still went on a date tonight! Everyone is driving like they are crazy due to multiple inches of snow on the streets. There are sirens ever two seconds and the visibility is less than a block- how romantic!

I think Ta-da List by 37signals is pretty neat. I'm using it to keep track of our countdown to departure and everything else in my life that requires order.

Andrea is back in Chicago and we've been doing some fun stuff, like ice skating and going out to eat. She brought the camera with her, so look out for photos soon.

Our going-away party will be on the 24th. Roughly a week after is the projected beginning of our Gulf Coast ride.

There's no place like a sinking ship to re-evaluate your career as a pirate.

January has been a shitty month. It started out with a friend being killed in a car accident (age 27, hit by a drunk driver on Christmas Eve), and didn't improve. Andrea has been living with her family in Flint for the past two months. Long distance relationships work for some people, but between the physical separation and the unresolved stress from five months of touring, ours has been tense and miserable. I'm not ready to go into details, but I've seriously questioned whether I want to spend another five months on the road, and beyond that, if Andrea and I have what it takes to work together as a team at all.

It's a new month though, and time for a re-evaluation of plans, goals, and my view of life in general. The transition from one mode of life to another has never been hard for me, but I always catch myself swept up in things and carried away with day-to-day affairs before I've actually come to terms with the fact there's been a change. I've been working for the last two months with blinders on, saving money, sleeping early, and losing contact with everyone. I've been living entirely for the future, for the goal of getting back on tour, but completely ignoring actual life around me. BAD IDEA! When it became obvious that things between Andrea and I were not working out, my priorities changed. I've been in better contact with friends, who are solidly supportive and loyal, and I'm cutting myself more slack in the leisure department. If there's nothing about your life that you can brag about, and you're living for something that's not making you happy, things have gotta change. Taking care of the people who care about you is worth whatever time and money it costs, because you never know when you're gonna be crying in your beer.

I'm not going to keep you in suspense... The tour is still on. Andrea and I are spending more time on the phone, talking things out, and she's moving back to Chicago in a week. We're planning to leave for Austin, Texas at the end of February. I'll post pictures of the going-away party.

Happy Holidays - It's almost Tour2k7!

We celebrated Xmas in Flint, MI with Andrea's family. That's Emmit in the picture, he's Andrea's sister's new puppy. We hope you all are having a fun and safe holiday season, and look forward to seeing everyone soon.

I got a mapping GPS for Christmas this year, to use on the second half of our trip. It is WASS enabled and I just loaded it with a bunch of detailed maps, so I'm doubtlessly going to be spending time outdoors soon. Maybe I'll track down a geocache or two.

The hardest part of touring.

It's not the physical pain or emotional distress. It's not the frustration of trashing your drive train on the open road, a hundred and fifty miles from nowhere. It's not the bears, raccoons, squirrels, or any other animal that steals your food. Same for the sun, rain, and cold. The most frustrating, discouraging, and menial aspect of this trip is the money-saving part. It's nice to be in the city if you have late-night oil to burn and money to blow on drinks, food, music, and endless entertainment. When you're socking all of your cash away for another five months of touring, these temptations make you feel depressed, lousy, and wishing you were living in some little snowbound cabin in the North Woods, where the California Clipper, the Maproom, Stella's, the Innertown, and the handful of good friends who all deserve proper attention at the forementioned establishments were safely out of range. I've started a disgusting coffee-drinking habit because it's the only way i can socialize on my self-imposed budget. For the first time in years I've gone for a week without resting my elbows on one of Chicago's heavily lacquered bars.

In times like these it's crucial not to lose sight of goals. Being ground to a bloody pulp by workweeks with no reward must be balanced against something tangible, so I find myself filling a notebook with lists and plans for the next few months, and looking back through our photos and my journals from the road. I'm organizing my gear, going through checklists, and reading maps at the Harold Washington Library. I'm forcing myself to stop in the middle of the day and visualize my time in the city as an island that I'll be rescued from in a matter of months, and to remember that the rescue ship with be loaded down with the bounty of freedom on the open road, and that the air will be clear and sweet like the sea, and not at all cold like Chicago winters.

Getting patriotic about snow.

Most of my life right now is focused on work and winter. I've returned to my job at the help desk and am attached to a computer during daylight hours. It feels good to be welcomed back and to be indoors as temperatures dip into the teens. This is a great time to ask me questions that require long written answers, or to keep my company on instant messenger.



We got our first big snow this week, officially announcing the start of winter. I'm a steadfast bicycle commuter, even when snot freezes to my scarf and I have to wear long underwear. I get smug satisfaction from harsh weather because it culls the weak from an otherwise pampered flock of urbanites. We are Chicagoans and will go to work in any weather goddammit! Bring on the black slush, ice, and frigid blasts of lake-effect snow, we will wrap ourselves in layers, stand atop snow-drifts, wade through frozen slop, and make it to the office on time.

Here are more snow pictures.

The other thing that keeps me going is the resumption of our tour in February. North Padre Island is one of the first places on the list.

Steel rails to the lake.

Last Saturday morning I put on a backpack, rode the train to Beverly Shores, IN, and hiked off into the woods. With my pack hidden under a pile of leaves, I set off to trek the perimeter of the Indiana Dunes State Park. I returned to my equipment at dusk and camped on an out-of-the-way wooded ridge outside of the park. There was light rain all night long and I could hear coyotes howling in the distance. I had seen some big sand formations, dunes and blowouts filled with dead trees, as well as twisted oak forests, white tail deer, and a lone coyote on the train tracks. In the morning I met a raccoon in a dumpster and then boarded the train back to the city.



Here are a few photos from my hike.

Escape from Chicago

Lake Michigan gets cold and choppy in the winter months. Andy & I rode to Wilmette this afternoon because we spend all week sitting on our butts at work. Their streets are made of brick and they have the Baha'i Temple. The above picture was taken at Gillson Park, from which you can see the temple.

Ira meditates on life in the workforce.

I get up early every morning before work so I have a couple hours to cook a huge breakfast and see unindentured daylight. I'm living with my friend Andy, who I met as a college freshman and have known longer than anyone in Chicago. We both eat a lot, ride bikes everywhere, and love to drink beer. In short, typical Wisconsin emigrants to Chicago. I think that on an average we go through four or five cartons of eggs, a bag of potatoes, a few sixpacks, and over two hundred miles in the saddle per week.

Wednesday morning, Andy and I were listening to NPR and watching school kids flock down the sidewalk, a school of pint-sized antagonistic tugboats with humorously foul mouths. As I polished off a giant omelet smothered in hot sauce, an essay came on the air about a woman who worked as a secretary, a job viewed by many as demeaning and unglamorous. One line stood out profoundly and I wish I'd captured it verbatim. In essence, she said, "People who climb mountains or go on strenuous adventures through Africa always get recognition of their efforts, but something like working as a secretary for years is just as difficult and never gets recognition."

I thought about that all week at work. Reflecting on my own adventure of the last five months with all it's physical and mental fatigue, I can't remember any day as awfully boring as my recent hours spent on data entry and telephone reception. These things really help you assess your goals in life. There has to be a pay-off! Someone we met on the bike ride gave this advice: "Spend your young, able bodied years doing difficult, adventurous things so when you're past your prime you'll feel good about kicking back and relaxing." One of the guys I just started working with has a goal to travel the country and drink a micro brewed beer from every state in the union. He only has seven left! He also plays in a rock band and has golfed his way across Wisconsin, both North-South and East-West.

"I want future generations to remember that I accomplished singular goals", he told me. "I don't want my life to be summed up by my job."

Anyway, this is turning into more of an essay than I had planned. The important information is this: I am going to work hard and save some money, because if I accomplish that goal I'll get to see the other half of the country by bicycle, and every hour spent behind the computer or telephone will be payed back in spades.

Life as usual

I've been feeling very bad lately that I haven't written anything in quite a while. Especially after leaving my last post, about how we're going to be updating this blog with more information which we glossed over before. My current excuse strongly hinges on my parents slow dial-up service. For some unknown reason, DSL is unavailable in the part of Flint township my parents live in. Anyway, it's not that I don't want to fulfill this promise of posting often. I really do,however, my life has been very strange for the past couple of weeks ever since returning to the Midwest.

When I say strange, I don't mean to infer any incredibly interesting strange events have been occurring. It is more that I am returning to all of my old haunts and finding my old comfortable life gone and I am placed in a world which is both incredibly familiar yet strange because the role I used to play in it has disappeared and I must redefine what my mundane every day life is in these new arenas.

The plan I had set up upon return to the Midwest was to spend a week in Chicago and then continue on to my parents house in Flint, Michigan where I knew I would be guaranteed a free place to stay and pretty confident about a job at the Borders book store my brother and sister both work for.

Arriving in Chicago, I wasn't sure on a place to stay. Ira and I had given up our apartment when we left so I spent the week floating around from place to place trying to be as graciously thankful as I could of the hospitality being offered. It was so incredibly wonderful to see everyone again, yet slightly sad and distressing to be experiencing elements of my old life as a visitor. I traveled 4700 miles around the country for 160 days, each night being unsure of the location and conditions of my evening resting place only to have the same experience in the place I considered home, shook my nerves quite a bit.

I spent the week endlessly moving from one corner of the city to the other in order to see as many people as possible. I succeeded in drinking far too much and tiring myself out completely. By the time I finally arrived in Flint, I was completely pooped. Although tired, I was very much looking forward to having my own room again and feeling completely comfortable in a space I could consider my own again. The day after arriving, I organized all my things in my room (my sisters old room in the basement) and did what I could to make myself feel in control of my own surroundings.

I've been in flint for a week now, and I already scored the job at borders thanks to my sister putting in a good word for me with her boss. You might think I would be settled in just fine. I am living with my parents and brother whom I love very much as well as have the financial security they provide me. I also have a job with which I can supplement my bank account for the sake of the trip which so far is all going according to plan. Yet, I still feel awkward, and out of my element.

I have never really lived in Flint. My parents moved here when I was a freshman in College. I have been visiting here periodically over the past couple of years enough to be acquainted with all of my sister's friends, but I only have a social life outside of my family here vicariously through my family.

I was looking forward to exploring flint more then I had in the past. I brought comuting fix gear bicycle back from Chicago to allow myself some independence as well as some consistency from my old life. Flint is not a bicycle friendly city as all my parents and friends here like to remind me. Things are very spread out and streets have no shoulder to speak of. The average speed limit on roads through town here is about 45 mph with all the streets around my parents house in the township being 50. Although a lot of the GM shops have closed Flint is still a car city. My sister always says "even homeless people here have cars." While I like a challenge, I am very uncomfortable about riding here, especially after dark. Many of the streets don't have street lights. When you combine this with the high speed limits and no shoulders, makes me nervous of commuting anywhere.

I am completely comfortable here at my parents house and I'm really enjoying the chance of being able to hang out with my younger brother as an adult. The opportunity of calling up my sister to go out for drinks or hang out and watch a movie at her house is great too. I just need to be patient about not having my environment exaclty the way I used to in Chicago. I know Flint is very different, and has a lot of great things going on, although it may seem I've been focusing only the negative. Flint is the way it is, and I can't expect to bend it the way I want it to be.

As a control freak, I always want things to be how I want or expect them. I was concerned about this tendency of mine on our road trip, but it didn't get in the way too much. When you are constantly moving around, you don't really have time to get too stressed out if you don't like a certain place. If you don't like it, you just leave and go to the next place. Ira and I had set up a rule that we never stayed with anyone longer then five days. After five days, depression usually set in. The longer we stayed with people, the more it felt as though we were trying to live their lives. I like living my own life and so we would leave and continue on with our reality of the time, which was constant movement.

Now, I AM living other people's lives. I'm living my families lives. It seems strange to say, but my family lives a much different life then I do. I've been out of the house for 8 years. I've always noticed the difference of our lives upon coming back for visits, but now living here, it is very noticeable. Neither lifestyle is better then the other, its just different for me. Its not that there are any large changes except maybe I am going to be driving more the cycling. But more subtle things.

I think the average person underestimates how important the mundane aspects of our life are. Sure maybe people can feel bored with their life at times, but these same boring elements also give us structure and a comfort in the knowledge of what we can expect things to be. With that knowledge comes a certain confidence. We don't have to waste time worrying about how the little details of things are going to pan out because based on our past day to day experience probably already know. This is why the first couple days of a new job are so stressful and tiring. Once you become accustomed to the new job's flow, you look back and laugh at how you once were so worried about fitting in.

I am just experiencing this worry and stress of the unknown right now. The strangeness comes in because the unknown details are completely surrounded by people and environments I have intimate knowledge of. Perhaps I take my family and friends for granted. I shouldn't be surprised they are constantly changing. I have been gone doing my own things, changing in my own way. Of course they are changing as well based on their experiences in an environment which I only have a superficial knowledge of.

So I've been busy lately. Not really busy doing anything of note. I have been busy worrying and stressing about setting up a new mundane life for myself. And although the word mundane carries with it negative connotations, I use it here as a completely unemotional term to describe the feeling of being comfortable with one's ordinary daily life. After being on the road for so long, I am looking forward to getting back (even if it is only for three months) to a more regular and slightly more predictable life.

Wild Chicago

We're temporarily back in the Midwest, Chicago in my case. Andrea is working on a post describing our flight back and the celebration that ensued, I'll leave it at that so as not to steal her thunder.

It would be futile to try and replicate my touring lifestyle while inside the third-largest city in the nation, but I can't help but noticed my changed perspective. It's maddening to know that the closest natural landscape is seventy miles away, after spending five months in the most remote and wild the lower forty eight has to offer. To sooth my nerves I threw a leg over my trusty swiss-army-knife city bike and pointed it toward Labaugh Woods, the only place on the North Side with over an acre of dirt.



Labaugh has roughly five miles of single-track trails that follow a river through the Jefferson Park area. It's the only mountain biking (to use the term loosely) in Chicago that is an easy ride from my appartment.



I got muddy, fell down, was poked by sticks, and bounded over the mostly flat, wooded trails like a slightly-out-of-shape whitetail deer. I ride an old road bike with riser-bars, fat tires, and a fixed-gear drivetrain; not particularly fast, but like duct tape, good for almost everything.



I was taking a breather by this railroad crossing and an actual whitetail deer snuck up on me. He had eight points on his rack and was completely fearless. This is the only clear picture I got pefore he wandered down the enbankment.



I followed him into the woods and tried to get a few more shots, but this was the best that turned out.



Despite my nature experience, Kedzie Ave. was never more than a short ride away. You can't ever get out of this place.