two hundred fifty nine

THE TIRE PUMP

4295 miles without a functioning tire pump, sounds foolish, but I did it. 

My trip from San Francisco to Maine started in the early spring of 2008. Some of the mountain passes were still closed so I had to be creative and take a few detours. I traveled alone through Nevada on the what they call the "Loneliest Highway", highway 50. I traveled alone through the corn and wheat fields of the plain states, countless urban streets and highways, back roads and bike paths all of the way to the Atlantic coast. Day after day, week after week I rolled across rocks, potholes, broken glass, wire, scrap metal and random  pieces of sharp junk. Through all of this I thought my trusty frame pump was at the ready. 

I had never taken even a short ride without a tire pump, tools, a patch kit and extra tube. In fact I secretly mocked stranded riders who weren't prepared. I would always stop to help them, many times giving them a new tire tube. We would small talk while I fixed their flat tire, then shake hands, then I would give them a smug (you're an idiot) smile as I waved goodbye. Yes I can be a pompous ass, but they got a new tube and maybe a lesson.  

It is hard to believe 4295 miles without one flat tire. A few times I did top the pressures off at a bike shop using their floor pump, but no on the road flats requiring the use of my pump. If you ride bicycles you know how rare this is, because flat tires are just the price you pay for having fun. No one enjoys fiddling with bike tire tools chains and pumps. Rear flat tires are the most common for some reason and if you are loaded you have to remove panniers and the bike chain. After weeks on the road your chain and everything is covered with grit and grease so I always pack several sets of disposable gloves.

There are several types of tire pumps. One very light weight style is the one using  compressed air cartridges. I have used them but they are designed for road and mountain biking focused on getting you back home. I prefer a mechanical pump, they range in size and weight. I have had several sizes and types one was a  beautiful frame mounted pump that I hauled from coast to coast. Yes that is the one that didn't work. Every pump no matter how well made has a shelf life because the rubber gaskets over time break down and leak as mine did. Tire pumps are emergency equipment, they need to perform when we need them, they need to be periodically inspected serviced or replaced.

 Who knows when my pump was manufactured, how long it had been on the shelf in the bike shop and what did the months of Arizona desert heat do to it? I made the mistake of assuming it would always work.

A bike tire pump can be a matter of life and death depending on where and when you need it to work. At best a bad pump is a big inconvenience. There is no fool proof solution but we can improve the odds. Buy a quality pump that is well made and test it frequently. Oil breaks down rubber so never ever lubricate a pump. 

I found the Lezyne Micro with a built in tire gauge. It is light weight, well made and it looks cool. The pump can be easily maintained everything screws together no glued or welded parts. I am not sure if the parts can be replaced but you can inspect the condition of all of the rubber parts. The price is around $60 I think it is well worth the price. High performance tires require higher pressures 120 pounds per square inch or more this pump is rated to 160 PSI.

I can get cold chills thinking about what could have gone wrong not having a workable pump in the middle of Nevada. It was a good lesson once I discovered it on a day ride after I returned home. This is why I recommend taking a shakedown run before any long trip. Set up and use everything to make sure it works, you may be surprised what you find. I run 100 PSI in my rear tire when I am loaded and the Lezyne pump handles this very well. I have marked 100 PSI on the in line tire pressure gauge to make it easy for me to see. 

For peace of mind one option is packing a onetime use air cartridge pump they are compact and light weight, great for backup. Tire tools a patch kit and at least three new tubes are essential for touring. Some recomend bringing along a new collapsible tire. This may be vital for off road touring but loaded on road touring from city to city you can usually find a bike shop, a hardware store or even a Walmart to meet your needs. I have drilled my rims to accommodate Schrader valves if that is all I can find. There are tiny rubber inserts to accommodate the preferred Presta valve size just ask your bike shop.

Many times I have refer to learning things the hard way this is one hard lesson I learned the easy way. I am also  aware how very lucky I was.

two hundred fifty eight

 

FREEDOM

Freedom is the power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants without hindrance or restraint, and the absence of a despotic government.... The right to freedom of association is recognized as a human right, a political freedom and a civil liberty.

 1 : the condition of having liberty The slaves won their freedom. 

 2 : ability to move or act as desired freedom of choice freedom of movement. 

 3 : release from something unpleasant freedom from care. 

 4 : the quality of being very frank : candor spoke with freedom. 

 5 : a political right freedom of speech.

I don't want to make this blog political so my focus is not on the "R" or "D" tribal crap it is focused on "us" and "them". I was born in 1951 in a small town founded by Quakers in 1806. There is a history of Abolitionists and a stop on the Underground Railroad. 

There are no active Quaker meeting houses but the town has about 30 churches and 30 bars. The school mascot is Quaker Sam so we were the home of the fighting pacifists. 

I was a free range kid, be home when the street lights come on, but that was even optional. Summers were a year long and our play ranged from the Little Rascals to the Lord of the Flies. We hunted, trapped, played pick up baseball that was more like dodge ball, because of the lack of players you were out if the ball hit you. We actually had unsanctioned by any responsible parent BB gun fights. The rules were, only three pumps and no head shots......yeah right. 

School was still basic, we had reading, writing, math, and recess twice a day this was my all time favorite. Shut up was a swear word and Miss Herginrouther lead us in a thankful prayer before lunch. 

When I was in elementary school I walked with the neighborhood kids. We had the most fun plus a little drama on the way to and from school, there was a creek on the way. In Middle school and High School I rode the bus until I was 16 then I had my first car a 1963 Chevrolet Corvair.

I remember getting on the school bus with my 22 caliber JC Higgins rifle, I kept it in my locker through the day because we were going hunting after school. I learned rifle safety in Boy Scouts and no one thought a thing about it. . 

There were kids with rifle racks in their pick up trucks but it was nothing like the red neck actors on Netflix. I can't say we were in a gun culture they were just there, we learned very young not to fear them.  

We knew very young to respect guns, we were trained in their proper  use and handling. To us they were just tools or machines not selfdefense or offensive weapons. I do imagine there were people that thought that way, but it never entered our minds. 

Over the years I lost any interest I had for firearms, but I do see a need for the right to have the option. I knew a very petite woman who worked late in a strip mall salon until after sunset. She drove alone fifty miles on a crowded freeway with a large amount of cash so a cell phone and a fire arm made sense for her peace of mind. 

Most homes in our town were not locked, cars had the keys in the ignition and the danger of walking alone on a dark street was the danger of tripping or stepping in a hole. 

Men stood when women entered a room. No hats at the dinner table, no elbows on the table and my brother and I had to ask permission to leave the table. No one would swear in front of a child and men watched their language in front of women. There was even a limit on how men used profanity around other men.

If boys or even big boys that are called men got in a fight it was one on one, no weapons and it was over when their was a decided advantage. They usually sorted out whatever it was in one fight, some avoided one another and some shook hands. Fighting is usually stupid but there was a sense of honor and unwritten rules.

Sundays were amazing, we had the "Blue Laws" in effect. Only one gas station was open and a pharmacy was open until noon. There were many options to Sunday, most people went to church, many went fishing or took a drive (gas was 30 cents a gallon). The younger ones would cruise, go to the lake or play baseball or flag/tackle no helmet football. They did sell 3.2% beer but  the bars were not open. My choice was buying enough beer before 6 pm on Saturday night.

My point to all of this is, I grew up free. It sounds like we had plenty of rules but they were rules based on honor, respect and a sense of right and wrong. We took civics and history in school, we learned how the country was founded, how government works, but mostly the responsibility of being a citizen. We were encouraged to think for ourselves, the only pressure to conform was to obey the laws. We were taught how to participate in government and how to approach everything with the underpinning of virtue. 

I wrote a report on President John Adams my favorite quote is : "Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious people. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other.”

This quote is revealing today. I grew up thinking our leaders had this virtue but decade after decade things must have changed. I for a long time have seen our corporate media lose direction but there has always been someone dedicated to telling the truth. It is getting harder and harder to find this. Because of this we were taught to question things and read between the lines. I have no clue what my teachers politics were it wasn't my business so I didn't ask. 

The freedom of speech is being challenged at a level I have not seen in my life, but this is a bicycle blog. The freedom of movement is what I worry about. The fact that I have traveled coast to coast and the length of our coastlines both Atlantic and Pacific feeds my wanderlust.

I have traveled in other ways to Europe, Canada and Mexico. Crossing international borders does feel invasive but they have a right to be picky about who they let in to their country.  Agricultural inspection in California and Hawaii are for a reason but it still feels invasive. Traveling by air is really invasive but if you want on you just bite the bullet (figure if speech). 

Secret no fly lists, surveillance, facial recognition, fingerprint log in and GPS tracking give the user a great deal of information and control. I think back about the John Adams quote and wonder if the powers that be still have that virtue.

The freedom I enjoyed as a kid was local. The Federal government was mostly hands off in those days. As you read this you may think my up bringing was limited or repressed. The truth is we were kids that were subject to every adult that witnessed our misbehavior. We learned how to act by watching the adults around us who modeled proper behavior. 

They  realized we were watching their every move so they monitored their own behavior. It sounds prudish or backward but the changes in our culture and the invacive "help" of the Federal Government may have a hand in the loss of virtue today.

My mode of transportation will probably go under the radar, but as a free citizen protected by the Constitution I wonder how free I am today. It seems the things that were so innocent have now been redefined and have become evil. I have been redefined by my gender and skin color. I have been pushed into a group I have never identified with and who knows my thoughts and opinions may one day be declared hateful. 

I am truly disturbed by resent events and once again it isn't an "R" and "D" thing it is an us and them thing. My heart breaks for the level of hate that is out there trying to divide us. The only thing that will heal this division is that the average citizen not participate in the hatred. Talk to each other see a person not a tribal member. Go back to a simpler time and expect virtue from our leaders. We gave them power they need to be responsible to us and I mean all of us.

I have no answers or a plan of action, things will be what they will be. I am writing this not because my team won or lost it is because I'm old enough to know what we are losing and that my heart breaks for our young people,  they may never know true freedom.

two hundred fifty seven

 Fry's Food and Drug Val Vista Lakes

Gilbert Arizona

The store is no longer open but a little over 30 years ago I was transferred there to work the grand opening.  I worked there seven years, in that time a lot of things happened. I got sober, started riding bikes, got this crazy bicycle touring bug and fell in love. That's a story for another time.

The store manager was the most irritating human being I have ever met. He had a rude style, ruled the store by his moods, always focused on business, had impossible standards, never socialized at a personal level, at times a complete asshole but he was a management genius. It took sometime and a lot of frustration for me to see but there was a method to his madness. 

There are many styles of management some are more effective than others. The one I hate the most is the cart and carrot. Tell me what you want, set a goal and don't move the carrot. Unfortunately they always move the damn carrot. 

Working in a grocery store is an honorable blue collar career but it can be monotonous and boring. It pays enough to get by, has benefits and if you hang around long enough you get a pension. The union in my experience over 39 years is a joke. Unions have served a vital purpose in the past but they have turned into a giant corporation themselves. The individual members are the least of their concern, I saw that demonstrated many many times.

My long career in the meat business has no real legacy. The stores I worked in are closed or owned by a different company. Everything has changed dozens and dozens of times. I can't drive past anything I have built, no award shows or fanfare. My clients long ago ate what I produced and forgot in a few weeks after I moved on that I had ever worked there. The reality of selling food is that everything I did turned to shit (literally). 

I am buy far not alone in this type of career, in fact the majority of careers are like this. Our self-esteem usually comes from things in our lives other than what we do to make money. Blue collar jobs are sometimes mocked or looked down on but if you have had a job you need to shower before and after work you know what I mean. Blue collar workers keep our country fed, clothed, housed, warm and safe. Producing, transporting, selling, building, repairing and maintaining are vital careers that are at times ignored or taken for granted.

It is tough enough doing the drill day after day month after month year after year. Then to have some jerk giving you grief every day can really piss you off. Well that was my original position on Steve the store manager. He walked by each department with a front end manager in tow to critique every detail of your counter. He didn't stop until he found a flaw, he criticized, had his staff make a note of it and then moved on to the next department. 

I asked him what he wanted, he said perfection, you will know when you get there. This went on through the grand opening, we all thought it was a pissing contest to impress upper management and it would end soon but it continued. Day after day I strived to meet his standards but he continued to find flaws. 

One day he came by on a particularly intense search and destroy mission, he had just thrown a tantrum in the produce department. As he stood in front of my counter for the longest time, then he said now that is what I want and walked on. I was both relieved and confused. Thinking back I realized each thing he had asked for I had done, he saw this and let me have the carrot. 

His style was by no means warm and fuzzy he was all business. He was focused on exactly what he wanted and expected us to follow through. He was direct but clear, he wasn't doing it for fun there was a specific purpose. He continued to find flaws and set what felt like unreasonable standards but I kept achieving his high standards. After a while his standards that once seemed impossible were now my own standards. 

I watched new department heads go through this same process, some got it and some failed. I would tell them what was happening and that this guy was actually easy to work for once you understood him. After a year or so we were never friends, it was always business. I had managed long enough to realize managing an employee and being friends can have some issues. Steve and I did have respect for each other. I kept my department conditions and numbers high but I did keep him at a distance because he thought I was a little nuts with good reason.

It was simple, have no customer complains, no returns, no bad health department reports, no out of stocks particularly ad items, no repairs that weren't repaired, every one in dress code, clean spotless conditions and no quarter punches.  The District Manager once brought the Chairmen of the Kroger Board directly from the corporate jet to our store because we were the store that would have grand opening conditions. Usually they spend a week getting ready for a dog and pony show. 

The one thing Steve demanded was honesty. He never asked a question he didn't know the answer to. He was asking to test your honesty. I watched a few people fail this test, it was not pretty. If you told him the truth and it was bad like running out of an ad item he would simply say "fix it". You knew to get ad product by hook or by crook because he would be following up.

One strange thing he did was never ever walk through the back stock room, he didn't even use the cameras to spy on us. We got used to this and spoke freely about him, many times negatively. The yearly store inventory was the only time I saw him walk through the stock room but that was announced days before his visit. I once asked him why he did this, he said you guys have to have a place to talk about me. He also said I know what is going on I have Hank. 

Hank had worked for him before so he no doubt had been tested for his truthfulness. Hank ran the back stock room, checked in trucks and maintained general conditions. It was our place, there was a relaxed atmosphere, a little playfulness but mostly all business. Even Hank would have a smart remark to say as Steve was barking for him to pick up the intercom. 

Business was Steves priority, customer service, conditions, profit and loss numbers, but customer loyalty was his first priority. No questions asked return policy, empowering his department managers with the ability to give product away to keep a customer and using overtime if we need it. A quarter punch is sloppy and you would get a call but a half hour or an hour he assumed was necessary. 

I grew to love working for him and taught me a great deal as to how I managed my department. I was never impressed with his style but one thing I knew exactly what he expected. I learned to be direct and clear with my crews. I expected my crew to be truthful no matter what. I used Steves line "fix it" which worked much better than scolding or finding fault. I had fun at work and was much more light hearted than Steve but I did expect high standards. I counseled people in private to go behind their pride and gave them permission to make decisions. 

Working with the public, tolerating low wages and  enduring the foolishness of upper management is bad enough. I tried to give people some area of autonomy and responsibility. Some didn't respond to this but most did. I privately counseled only the people that needed it I never sent a mass ass chewing e-mail  or yelled at everyone which is another of my pet peeves. 

I was told to manage people like you would like to be managed. I remember how Steve responded to weak upper management and how much he respected the yellers and screamers. I chose my own much different style but I did learn a great deal from Steve.

I recently heard Steve has passed on from a heart attack. I knew he was no longer a District Manager because of his heart. The last I talked with him he was on a heart transplant list. I think he knew how much I (eventually) respected him.

Steve gave me an opportunity to flex my creativity. This is a 6 foot poster board submarine.  

two hundred fifty six

THE MATRIX 

When a beautiful stranger Trinity (Carrie-Ann Moss) leads computer hacker Neo (Keanu Reeves) to a forbidding underworld, he discovers the shocking truth--the life he knows is the elaborate deception of an evil cyber-intelligence. They then remove his body that has been used to produce electricity and bring him into reality. Once he discovers the truth he is trained to go on missions in and out of this alternate reality called the Matrix. There were three Matrix movies and it is rumored a fourth is coming out in 2021. 

They were entertaining and thought provoking. They are attaining cult classic status by injecting ideas and thoughts into our culture. References to living in the Matrix are in our daily conversations particularly a reference to  "Red Pilled or Blue Pilled". Artificial Intelligence or AI is here now, this has stirred our imaginations about a take over once it becomes self aware. I believe we have much more to fear from our fellow humans but the principles of the red and blue pills apply.

 Red pilled, embracing the sometimes painful truth of reality, or blue pilled, remain in the blissful ignorance of illusion.  I think most people want to be in control of everything in their reality, but many find the stress of life physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually much too painful to deal with. I have made this choice myself.  I don't think we live in an ultimate reality but I do think we can choose not to see the one we are in, here are a few examples.

The Ostrich approach to life is very common. I call it that because these giant birds well equipped to deal with most dangers choose to hide their heads to pretend they are safe because they can't see or hear the danger.  Many people take this approach by completely hiding from all negativity be it physical discomfort, emotional stress, mentally challenging or uncomfortable truth. 

Another approach is what I call the tribal approach. Group think or group reality is a way of avoiding responsibility for our own choices. This relieves us of responsibilities. We don't have to make decisions for ourselves we simply rely on the group opinion. However there is always an alpha dominating the group. The personality, values and virtue of this leader is crucial to the success or failure of the group. 

There is a requirement to be a loyal member of the tribe you must not challenge the collective truth and above all be blindly loyal to the beliefs facts and opinions of the tribe. The occasional member (Red Pilled) who may question or disagree with the tribe may face rejection even banishment. 

This is very common in our world today, cliques, different racial groups even political parties. All of these prefer uninformed dependent and not curious people (Blue Pilled) or sheep. The worse thing that can happen to a tribes not so virtuous leader is to have  smart informed curious sheep. 

The ideal tribe member relies on the leader for everything. If things go well the leader takes credit, if things go poorly the leader often blames a different tribe for what went wrong. They point out your life sucks because of them, they lied to or about you, they hate you and want to or have hurt you. This allows the tribal leader to take no responsibility or blame and allows the tribal members to become victims. They then are justified in lying, hating and hurting other tribes. The leader is then strengthened because he is the only one who cares. 

Closed minded is another Blue Pill approach, "I know it all, seen it all and done it all". I have met a few people who are very well educated, successful in life and very socially active. They have achieved a comfortable well earned level of success and are satisfied with knowing what they know and have no interest or curiosity in learning anything that challenges their comfort zone. One trait is to mock or look down on others which is a form of defense that I believe is based in fear. Some may call them the cool kids.

One thing for sure being Red Pilled is a very hard place to live because we have to take responsibility for ourselves, the things that we know, our choices and consequences. 

In the movie Neo took the Red Pill once, if we choose to take the Red or Blue pill we need to take it every day. This concept in the movie is intriguing but I think the general choice of truth of willful ignorance is something we do everyday. 

The shock that Neo experienced from learning he had lived his entire life was a computer program almost killed him. The shock of finding out what you thought was real or true has been a lie can also be a shock. Red Pilled is described as turning on a light, opening up our minds or taking off the blinders. It all starts with a willingness to test and challenge what we think is true or real and be willing to accept what we discover.

Red Pilled truth or reality, how do we find it? First it takes a willingness to truly want to find it. Some say there are many "truths", and everyone has their own "truth". If you are honest with yourself this is bumper sticker on a Prius self denial bull shit. I hear this thrown around by people satisfied with what they know and don't want their "truth" challenged. This is because they don't know how to defend it or even explain it. An honest search for truth means you get your head out of the sand, take off your tribal hat and open your mind to the possibility you don't know everything. 

Second truth if it is true will always stand up under scrutiny. Test it challenge it try to prove it wrong. Read what you shouldn't read, ask questions you shouldn't ask and follow every thread to where ever it goes. Always be willing to listen and never stop looking. 

I hate being lied to so I don't put my trust blindly into anyone and I don't want anyone to completely trust everything I say. You need to paddle your own canoe. It is tempting to gather a following but I don't want the responsibility. I have enough trouble cleaning up my own messes.

I will talk about the truth I have discovered, I'll even tell you how much I trust it is true. However at the end of the day it is on you to make your own choice as to what truth you believe and trust. I write this simply to get people to think and motivate them to be curious.

 My bicycle trips are both an escape and a hard look at reality. I meet people along the way that have their reality challenged by some nut on a bicycle. If you ever see me we will have a conversation about something real. I have suffered through more than forty years of corporate meetings so I have wasted too many hours of my live to talk about meaningless crap.

two hundred fifty five

TOTAL RIGHT KNEE REPLACEMENT

October 19, 2020

I was young and dumb with a brand new 1971 Fiat 124 Sport Coupe. I was headed home from my girl friends house when a full sized Dodge Coronet turned directly into my lane. I hit once then went airborne end over end then impacting an embankment, so there were two impacts.

I did not lose consciousness so I remember the small fire and the jaws of life. I remembered the ambulance ride and the emergency room. I have no idea how fast I was traveling but I never went anywhere slowly. 

Concussion, internal bleeding, broken jaw, neck, ribs and a compound fracture of my right femur. I spent two weeks in the Intensive Care Unit and another month in the hospital. I was not expected to survive but my doctor used the fact that I was 19 years old to save me. He said he is 19 if we don't  tell him he could die he won't because at 19 he doesn't think he can. 

He was absolutely right I was much more concerned for my car and the strange experience of being 19 and not able to get an erection. At 19 that is as vital as a heart beat.

In surgery they wired my jaw and inserted (with a sterile hammer) a 17 inch long stainless steel pin inside of my femur bone. It was in there for eleven months then removed. I was back to work in six months. There was no rehab in those days I just went back to carrying quarters of beef, and unloading trucks. Old school apprenticeships were heartless so I pulled my weight or else.

I had a guy call me a cripple that made me so mad I voued to never ever ever ever limp. I made a point of walking smoothly and took up running 10k races in the 80's. I continued on like nothing had happened but I knew my knee was paying a price.

After several years of commuting on my Surly Crosscheck and a few bicycle tours I finally bought a Felt F4 Carbon Fiber bicycle. I had a friend do a proper fit. He was training someone so he did the left leg with all of the bike fit tools then told the trainee to do the right leg. After several attempts the numbers were different. After some investigation we discovered my right Femur was one full inch shorter than my left. 

This was a big surprise but it explained many of the problems I had had over the past 33 years. We moved shoe clips and added shims to my shoes to compensate. A few rides later I went back to the way it was.

I never slowed down I just lived with the pain. My knee has had severe loss of cartilage for the past 25 years. At 69 I finally had enough it was going bad rather quickly. 

The picture is week four, the swelling is gone now and the scar is minimal. The bruising was extensive the first week my leg and groin area were dark purple. The first five weeks were miserable and the rehab is pretty intense but sleeping was my biggest issue. Now twelve full weeks later I'm so happy I did it. I take long hikes now my knee is perfect but the rest of my body aches. I guess that is just being my age. I am on my way to getting in shape, I can see light at the end of the tunnel.

Erin Finter MD was my doctor there is a post about her post number two hundred forty four.

two hundred fifty four

THE STRAIGHT STORY

by David Lynch

This is a quirky story about a man taking an epic journey using an unusual form of transportation, sound familiar?

A retired farmer and widower in his 70s, Alvin Straight (Richard Farnsworth) learns one day that his distant brother Lyle (Harry Dean Stanton) has suffered a stroke and may not recover. Alvin is determined to make things right with Lyle while he still can, but his brother lives in Wisconsin, while Alvin is stuck in Iowa with no car and no driver's license. Then he hits on the idea of making the trip on his old lawnmower, thus beginning a picturesque and at times deeply spiritual odyssey.

In 1999 this movie quietly came out. It didn't stand out or win any awards so I missed it for years perhaps you have too. It is for rent on Amazon, it is worth a watch. I have not found a better movie to capture the spirit of loaded bicycle touring. 

There is a great story line of family and redemption that is heart warming I won't spoil it for you. My focus is on his journey. 

He was a bull headed man who was limited by age and the wear and tare on his body from a life of hard work. I could relate to being bull headed and having a well worn body myself but I refuse to be limited. His circumstances forced him to use a very unconventional form of travel. It was slow, unpredictable and dangerous. 

His interactions with the people he met along the way, battling the stress of the trip and a dangerous break down are very familiar to me. 

The movie reveals the nature of first time last time conversations. As you travel from town to town you meet strangers. Most interactions are friendly but sometimes they can be very  open and honest and often they become intimate and personal. Sooner or later you both move on, never to see one another again. The nature of this type of interaction is that it is no risk, talking truthfully is easy.

I have been changed by these conversations and I believe others have been changed too. This human to human thing kind of works that way. It is simple I just try to break down walls by risking showing my heart first. I'm amazed how the most uptight people respond.

The curiosity, unlikely interactions and the kindness of strangers are the reasons I love the people of this great country. I have had some very profound conversations where two complete strangers shared a moment of kindness, respect and closeness. I hold many of those moments close to my heart and think of them when the world seems a little ugly.

two hundred fifty three

MISTER EISENHOWER

When I was in middle school I was part of a new progressive experiment one genius idea was "New Math" so I am happy we now have calculators. The next idea was to split the year into thirds so the boys and girls took one third of the year home economics, one third wood shop and one third art class. In Home Economics I learned to properly set a table and fold a cloth napkin. Wood Shop was taught by a teacher who the year before was a janitor. Somehow I had pissed him off so he didn't like my attitude so basically I learned nothing.

Then there was Art Class with Mister Eisenhower. He was a young man fresh out of college. He was post beatnik and pre hippie with a buzz haircut, always wore a t-shirt, had jeans with the knees out and wore sandals rain, snow or shine. They told him to wear a neck tie so he painted one on his t-shirt. 

Needless to say he only lasted a year but he was my all time favorite teacher. His classes were so unconventional. He taught us to see by taking days to look at our very own chicken egg. We named them, smelled them, licked them, looked through them and listened to them. 

We drew one line, don't take the pen off of the paper drawings (like Picasso). He distracted us by telling us gross stories about how they mummified the Pharaohs nose entry brain hooks and everything.  I guess he did this to  access our left brains and imaginations. 

He talked about free thinking, being an individual and made being responsible sound cool. I still remember his wisdom, "Have your own opinion not someone elses" and "Everyone can look at things, but only a few can see them".

He thought art in any form is for the viewer not for the artist. It isn't what the artist puts into it, it is what the viewer sees feels and thinks about it. Getting people to think and feel is a beautiful thing.

He got us to think about the silly things people say everyday just like Gallager the comedian, but this was years before Gallager. 

What he did for me is to actually see me and value my opinion like he did all of the other seventh grade students. We all got serious around him because we all valued what he thought about us. We all tried to see things like he did as I still do today.

He lived down the street so I saw him now and then. He went back to being a starving artist. He had art everywhere in and on the house, We found a vein of pottery clay and fired some really cool pottery pieces in bonfires in his backyard. Those months were the best months of my 12 years of school.

Another nudge along my way.

two hundred fifty two

The things you look at, do you really see them?

 

Wesley Hanna

This man was born in 1900 and died in 1985, he is still alive in my mind and heart. He lived near the town I grew up in, in fact he sold the land to the city where they built their water reservoir. The house he had lived in for 70 years was built from the trees and field stone on the land. 

I didn’t know him until he was older but he had lived a full life of business and farming. He was obviously a large powerful man as a younger man. Now he was a quiet gentle man with a bad heart. His wife was a few years younger but limited by age. 

The interaction between them was fun to watch after more than 60 years together I only saw the end product. I’m sure there were epic fights, crisis and joys along the way. 

I made the mistake at first seeing them as old people. The longer I talked with Wesley the more I realized his mind and spirit were still young. The wear and tare of life plus many hard years had taken it’s toll. I’m beginning to understand this in my own life.

Wesley had not lived more than five miles from where he was born. I’m not sure he traveled much. Some may think he had a limited life but I absolutely know he had a full life. 

He was informed about current events and history. He was well read and owned an amazing amount of books. He quoted everything from Henry Thoreau, William Shakespeare to the King James Bible. He had a college degree and had the wisdom and sharp mind of a farmer. 

By farmers mind I mean he was a weather man, knew commodity markets, math, engineering, carpentry, plumbing, electricity, mechanics, understood the handling and care of animals and yes he could grow and harvest crops. He ran heavy equipment, worked in coal mines and did custom farming. He was a leader in the local Grange, active on the school board and I think he was a county politician.

I didn’t ask about his past because he didn’t seem to live there, what I did find was a man who taught me how to “see”.

I remember the day we walked through his garden. He pointed out the smells, sounds and touched everything and had me touch it. We were on an adventure through an amazing place. From the fuzz on green tomatoes, the smell of a hot radish to the sweet milk of sweet corn. Everything was amazing to him. 

At breakfast he had looked out of the same farm house kitchen window for all of those years and always saw something interesting. How the leaves on the trees were predicting the weather, how the cows were standing or laying down in the pasture, how the insects were acting and what the birds were showing him. 

Wesley had the spark in his aging eyes of a curious child, I wondered if he had learned this or was he just born that way. All I knew is that I wanted to see the world like he did. 

Over the years I remembered Wesley and when I felt like I was missing something or bored with my surroundings I would focus on the things around me and try to see them like Wesley. 

There were a few people in my life that impacted me profoundly, Wesley Hanna was one of them. I doubt he had a clue what he had taught me but perhaps he did.  

(the picture is a stock Ohio farm picture not Wesley's farm)

two hundred fifty one

 A Walk Across America 

by Peter Jenkins

This book is about a modern day man walking from coast to coast across America. I know over the centuries thousands of others have taken this journey on horseback, covered wagons, and on foot. They  traveled this way because there was no other form of transportation. 

Today coast to coast travel in a car takes four days and air travel can get you from New York to Los Angeles in under 7 hours. I have been on those flights and it always amazed me how a few people were bitching about how long it took. Sitting in a chair traveling 500 MPH still amazes me.

His method of travel stood out not because he was doing something new, it was because he was doing it now. His story fascinated millions because he jumped off of the hamster wheel and did something unconventional. His two best selling books came out in the late 70's, they are both worth a read. 

His journey took years because of many set backs and diversions. After reading them one thing I knew the stage was set  I was going to take my own epic journey one day. This was just another nudge along the way but I had not yet considered traveling by bicycle, that came years later.

In the mean time I was doing the deal, getting married, building a house, starting a family and trying to fit in to what was expected of me. Nothing wrong with any of this but like many men there is just something unfinished. To take the time to do it in the face of responsibilities would be selfish. A lot of guys kept their toys and boys nights out which caused that classic stress in their relationships. I'll admit I can be selfish but this was one thing I could not act on.

Years later things changed and I was in a position I could take some time to act on my dream, but I still wasn't sure what exactly that dream was. All I knew was it had something to do with travel and meeting and interacting with people. 

People have always fascinated me, I guess I got a little of that from my dad. He seemed to have a story or a joke and a natural ease with everyone he met. He befriended some strange characters from where he worked and always had a playful smile when they acted like characters. My parents both liked people and I was born a 10 pound fat baby who could charm the world or so I was told.

I spent almost 40 years behind meat department counters in dozens of grocery stores. Rich poor, new money old money, urban big box or small country stores and every ethnic neighborhood imaginable. Customers have no obligation to be fair or polite, but most customers reflect whatever I put out in an interaction. It is a study in people that can't be experienced very many places. 

I also had an opportunity to interact with dairy cows, beef cattle, hogs, goats and poultry, they  all have a pecking order. You learn to see it and be part of it. 

People have very similar patterns so it helped me to develop a method of reading the room. It not only saved me from getting my ass kicked in a few of the rough neck biker bars I drank in, I learned to respect other peoples stuff. 

Understanding this basic fact is very important while navigating bad situations or neighborhoods. The rule is look like a victim you will be a victim. Respecting other peoples space with a nod is also vital. All of this takes years of trial and error and trust me I learned mostly from error.  His books covered much of this but the first 50 years of my life put me a little bit ahead of the game.  One thing my ego has been beat down so I can get out of the way of my choices and have a more peaceful outcome.

 His books made clear how his journey opened his mind and heart to see the value of his interactions with the people he met along the way. This helped open my eyes to what life's journey on or off of a bicycle is really all about. I had learned over the years to take a moment and actually "see" people. I learned to enjoy just about everyone and value their uniqueness, but taking this ability on a long slow journey was a new idea.

two hundred fifty

THEN CAME BRONSON

 Micheal Parks in 1969 starred in a TV show that impacted me profoundly. A young guy setting out on a motorcycle with the theme, "Where ever I end up I guess". That struck such a cord with me I almost bought a motorcycle but even at that age realized I would never survive, I had too much of that speed thing.

Jim Bronson would find himself in a situation every week where he would save a life, put down a bully, solve a crime or change a life, but that is Hollywood. Actually a real journey has countless special moments. They may not be as dramatic as a television series but I do know I impacted a few lives along the way. Mine was certainly changed, I think that is the way this human to human thing should work.

I did buy a leather jacket and hat and took off a few times hitch hiking. My first few times I made all of the stupid mistakes but avoided the serial killers, but I did find and politely avoid a few creepy truck drivers. I remember so clearly being in the middle of Pennsylvania at 6 am trying to hitch a ride after sleeping under a truck on a piece of cardboard. It sounds like a nightmare but I had a smile on my face I'll never forget.

The middle of nowhere with only my whits is somehow soothing. I found the same feeling with a bicycle, a  motorcycle comes with a lot of limitations. People don't react the same to a motorcycle as they do a nut in the middle of nowhere on a bicycle. 

Living in Oregon the summers are filled with hundreds of guys my age taking epic journeys on very nice touring motorcycles. They travel longer distances from motel to motel avoiding the stress of leg power and primitive camping. I may someday do that but now I'll stick to my peddle bike.

On a bicycle there are things you just can't do. One of these is go fast and you can't go far, legs and lungs are the only motor you have. The weather and terrain rule your days. The slow slog puts you in contact with so many more people along the way.

If you go on Youtube you can watch a clip of this conversation. Jim Bronson has a conversation with a business guy going to work who is curious about what Jim was doing. He asked "were are you headed?", Jim answered "where ever I end up I guess". I have had the vary interaction with so many people who ask me the same question. 

The guy in the car seemed to be in awe if the free spirit of a young guy on an epic journey. It doesn't seem like much but to many people the thought of unfocused freedom thrills and terrifies them.

The call of the road is strong in me I have never ever been in a more perfect place then the middle of nowhere special. Each time I have fed this need, the need grows stronger. The older I get the more my eyes search the horizon longing to see what is over the hill and around the corner.

My previous post talked about my focus issues. What I have discovered I find serenity in the chaos of the bike lane. That and the feeling of freedom I can't imagine a more perfect place to be.