Boom. Done.

Chris: Boom.  Done.  St. Augustine to San Diego by the numbers

2,611:  miles biked from St. Augustine to San Diego

701:  miles biked by David

100:  percent chance I will one day own an e-bike 

77.6:  highest number of miles ridden in a day

60:  riding days

44:  meals cooked by David on Coleman stove

40:  nights in tent

33:  fastest mph downhill speed on bike

16:  meals from gas stations

15:  least number of miles ridden in a day

13:  nights in hotels

12:  libraries visited

7:  rest days

6:  bugs I swallowed

6:  pennies I found on the road

5:  minutes spent in San Diego after reaching the Pacific Ocean

3:  times I became dizzy from heat while riding

3:  requirements for completing such a ride—determination, discipline and a good butt cream.

2.4:  slowest speed while walking bike partway up mountain

2:  biked with socks on hands because I couldn’t find my gloves

2:  times I fell from bike

2:  number of oceans my bike tires have been dipped into

2:  rattlesnakes sunning on road

1:  cried during meltdown on I-10 in Arizona

1:  number of cities I enjoyed riding through or around.  Tucson for the win.

0:  percent chance I’ll ride coast to coast again

0:  flat tires. (Yay)

0: number of texts from my three sons saying the following:  "I love you so much Mom and I miss you and can’t wait for you to come home."  (It’s not too late)

0: regrets

Too many to count:  Mardi Gras beads I avoided skidding on, cows I fell in love with, songs I sang as I biked, complaints about sore muscles, exclamations of joy at the beauty of this land, roadkill in every state, number of times I loudly yelled “awwww” at cute cows.

Gratitude

Chris: I met no other bikers on this trip who were  as ill-prepared as David and me for a cross country bike ride.  There might be some good reasons for that.  When David experienced a heart attack in November I was ready to give up the trip but he didn’t want me to give up my dream. We put plans on hold and focused on his rehab and when he got the green light from his doctor we got back into planning mode.

We do one thing very well though and that is surround ourselves with friends and people who have far more expertise in certain areas than we do. A special thanks to this cast of characters:

Thanks to Doug Shuman who shared the dream from the beginning and always encouraged me to go for it.  You were invaluable in last minute preparations and continue to take care of the house in our absence.  Not known to mince words you have said a few times “everything you guys do is so half-assed.”  It’s true!  Which is why we’re so lucky to have you in our life!

Thanks to Josh Torrans for building a bike for me that would withstand hours of pounding on many rough surfaces.  Josh, you never batted an eye when I told you my dream and immediately started thinking of the kind of bike that would get me from coast to coast without me knowing much of anything about the workings of a bike.  Your handiwork was admired by many bike lovers on this trip.

Thanks to Anne Powers West who rode with me the first nine days of the trip in Florida and taught us so much about finding good places to camp.  And showed me the importance of stopping to smell the flowers and take pictures.

Thanks to Tony Ruacho who rode with me from New Orleans to the outskirts of Austin and taught me so much about road safety and protected me from loose dogs in Louisiana and eastern Texas.  Thanks also for showing us how to find more direct routes which shaved off many miles across the country.  Yay!

Thanks to Tanya Marsh who understands that biking requires much more than just strong legs and helped me prepare and strengthen my previously non-existent core muscles.  You were always and remain encouraging of this endeavor.  Thank you for taking on this 65 year old.

A special thanks to Patty Buckhold, Director of the Marcellus Library for managing the fund-raising aspect of the trip and setting up and updating the blog.   I am so thrilled to see you thriving in your role.  Thanks to the Marcellus Library Board (past and present).  You are total rock stars and I consider myself among the luckiest to have worked with you for so many good years.  Thank you for supporting this trip.

Thanks to Kay McAdam of the Marcellus News who printed stories of our adventure in the paper and not only financially contributed to the cause  but invited others to do so as well. Thanks for all the encouragement when my spirits were low.

We have been moved by the stories that were shared with us as we traveled across the country.  We have listened to stories of pain, loss, joy,  yearning and celebration.  We have shared a few of these on the blog but there are many more that we carry in our spirits.  We will not forget all of you that we have encountered along the way.  Thank you.  

To all the librarians, staff and volunteers we met:  I am humbled by your work, your determination and the vital roles you play in your communities.  The country needs you more than ever.  Thank you for taking time to talk with us and show us your libraries and talk about the challenges you face in your important work.

We were encouraged on a daily basis by receiving calls, texts and emails from friends, family and our beloved church family which were so appreciated and kept us motivated to carry on.

Thanks to all of you who donated to the ride which will benefit the Marcellus Library, my beloved sacred space.  Thank you for reading our musings along the way.

Thanks to all of you who provided food, beds, laundry services and good conversation along the way.  A big shoutout to Howard and Melody, Anne, Robert and Michelle, Jason and Reyna, Don and Ann, Harold and Elba,  Doug and Jenell and Anne’s friends in Tallahassee. The respite from the road was good for our bodies and souls.

And finally to David, my partner in life and on this trip.  I hesitate to call it the trip of a lifetime but it kind of was and I’m so lucky to have done it with you.  Thank you for so good naturedly embracing this dream and bringing your patience, good humor, flexibility and listening skills to me and everyone you met along the way.  In a fractured world people need to be listened to and you do it so well. Thank you for gently prodding me when I didn’t feel like getting on the bike on those cold, windy mornings and reminding me that I could do this. Thanks for cooking!  You can no longer call yourself an inexperienced camper!  We will be sitting in our easy chairs recalling memories of this trip the rest of our lives.  I am full of gratitude.  

In the words of the Psalmist “my cup runneth over.”  Surely goodness and mercy have followed me every mile of this journey.

Water and dates and people

David: It’s been several days since I blogged. We’ve passed through several cities, notably Yuma, without me writing. Chris said maybe it was because it’s hard to “meet people” in the larger cities. “We need to meet some people,” she said, “Then you will be able to write.”

Today I met Tom and Dylan.  Get ready for a couple day’s worth of reflections!

I initially stopped in when I saw a huge row of palm trees and stopped to take pictures. It turns out those are palms but not date palms. They are palm trees that put out branches year after year which are not cut off, creating a natural windbreak. There were date palms across the road. It’s Tom’s Hay Farm but they also raise dates. The average yield for an acre of dates is 4.5 tons of dates. The grower gets $3,880 a ton. You can do the math.

It’s not all profit. Tom says each tree gets 5 different treatments during the growing season. Trimming, shaping (twice), covering with a bag, harvesting. Most of that work is done by people who come across the border with work visas. Mexicans, but also Guatemalans and Peruvians. Men with small and lithe bodies to ride the machines that lift them into the air to work. don’t know how much they get paid.

 
Of course, everything that is grown here also  depends on water. Irrigation.

Most of us have heard about the Colorado River and how it supplies two countries (The US and Mexico) and more than 7 states with water. We’ve also heard about how it’s drying up, threatening the cities and farms that depend on it. Yesterday I was researching the Great American Canal system that was inaugurated in the 1930s to dam the Colorado River and distribute the water to the the deserts of California, Arizona and New Mexico to support agriculture.

There are 1/2 million acres being irrigated and cultivated in California’s Imperial Valley, where they can grow crops year round.
I have always seen that as a problem. Using scarce water to grow crops in the desert. Especially thirsty crops like rice, cotton and alfalfa.

Tom is the owner of Tom’s Hay Farm. (He’s on the left in the picture below).  Tom is very anxious to tell us why that does make sense. “Years ago, before the Colorado River was damned and run through canals, it would periodically flood this entire region, and deposit a thick layer of silt. We’re basically farming the floor of the Pacific Ocean.”

I asked if, since the Colorado River doesn’t flood anymore, the fertility was going to run out. Tom said no. “We as farmers are more concerned about conservation and environmental practices that anyone. We have very little organic matter in the soil: the sun bakes it out. So we are constantly adding to it. We work hay and straw into it. The green manure from plants and trees. We would like to use sludge (dried and treated sewage waste) but California doesn’t allow it. Where does the sludge from San Diego and Los Angeles go?  They truck it past us and pay farmers in Arizona to accept it.”

Farmers like Tom are thrifty in many ways. Dylan, on the right below, was proud of the fence at the base of the palm trees running into the farm. “Those are from the old wall with Mexico,” he explained. When the wall was rebuilt several years ago, it was cheaper for the Border Control to give the fence materials to the farmers than pay to have them hauled away.”

Tom said the wall has made a complete difference in the number of asylum seekers (my term) coming across the border. “I don’t have a problem with when they would come and ask for water. I don’t have a problem when they ask for food:  I give them food. But when someone knocks on my door and says ‘Come get my friend,’ and it’s a woman who is dying from the physical and sexual abuse she suffered at the hands of the smugglers . . .” And his voice trailed off and his eyes filled with tears. 

There is a downside to human attempts to manipulate nature in this scale. The water that runs through the canals from the Colorado River has naturally occurring salts and other minerals. Over time, the fields get more and more salinated. Before, the floods would leach the salt out. Now it builds up. When the irrigation water goes on the fields,  there is back wash that ends up back in the canals through ground water seepage. The California Environmental Health Hazard Assessment Department has issued an advisory against fishing in the canals because of the high concentrations of Mercury, PCBs and Selenium.




And, there is a cost in terms of human lives. More than 500 people have drowned in the canals since they were inaugurated in the 1930s. The buoys across the canals are a reminder of that danger, as well as the fact that not everyone accepts that toll as a “cost of doing business.”  The buoys save lives without asking why people are in the canals.

Dylan’s and Tom were both friendly and generous. Dylan said he would give me a bag of dates. “We sell the boxes,” he explained. I said I would be happy to pay for dates.

Tom told Dylan he had already set out a box on the counter for me.

Thank you for the dates, and your time, and your care for the earth, and for the people around you. 

One Last Desert

Chris: I had a nice little final desert ride today and by the time I finished it was 94 degrees and I was faint from the heat.  Ascending to the mountains, the temperature dropped 20 degrees.

We had a great visit at the Jacumba Branch Library with Branch Manager Sarah Misquez (middle) and employee Patricia LeConte (right).  They have an excellent collection as part of the San Diego County Library system where materials circulate among the 38 branches in the county.

The library sits about 100 yards from the Mexico border.  Sarah told us stories of families gathering on both sides of the wall to talk and visit when the wall was just two strands high. Just a couple of years ago, before the wall was extended up into the mountains outside Jacumba,  beautiful  horses from Mexico would wander over at night and walk down the streets of Jacumba. 

Hotel options in the area are expensive and we had no luck finding a good campground.  This place was recommended to us but upon arrival when I saw one old nude man walking around that was just too much for me so we left and are now in this fine motel that has running water, AC and a door that locks.  That’s really all we need. 

This is not a good look. But it’s my current reality.

With Thanks to Louis Armstrong

Chris. I see fields of green

 

A border wall too.  Trying to divide me and you.

But I think to myself what a wonderful world.



The colors of the desert are muted and disguised



And then. A flash of brilliance appears before my eyes.



I see friends hangin’ out saying how do you do



They’re really saying I love you…

May it be so.

Awesome Tucson

Chris. I have dreaded every single city that we have passed through because negotiating traffic on a bike is not fun.  But Tucson is a bikers dream with over 130 miles of bike paths that wind around and through the city.  We had wonderful rest days and were able to speak of things other than biking which was very, very good.

 

My brother Harold and his wife Elba with the beautiful plants that Elba so capably cares for.  They took such good care of us and provided wonderful respite for my weary body and soul. 

We biked in beautiful Catalina State Park.  I just LOVE the scenery. 

We were graciously welcomed into the home of Doug and Jenell Ulrich who are friends from my central Illinois days.  So good to reconnect. 

 

Doug rode with me 40 miles out of Tucson and not only found a more direct route that shaved off 20 miles (yay!) but the first 7 miles were downhill.  He’s an awesome riding companion.

 

Casa Grande was very good to me.  Not one, but two pennies at the gas station.   

 We loved this bad boy that watched over our tent site in Stanfield, Arizona. 

 

I rode past many of these feedlots where thousands of these beautiful creatures turned and looked expectantly at me when I called out “Awwwwww”.   I fantasized that I could take one home with me but they were all so cute and I couldn’t choose and then I felt even worse about their plight.  

 

I had another round of riding on interstate with no meltdown this time.  The shoulder was wide and clean of debris and other than the fact that it was 92 degrees by the time I got off the bike it was a delightful ride.  I’d rather ride in hot weather than cold.

 

Even got up the nerve to stop for a drink and take a pic.  The views were simply magnificent.  I don’t know how much more beauty I can take in.  I’m sure there’s something ugly up ahead.