FCBA 2013- Epilogue

Two weeks ago we arrived in Vancouver after nine weeks of cycling. Our journey started in the Southeast’s stifling humidity proceeding into the triple-digit heat of the Midwest and then to the relentless wall of mountains of the Northwest. This account has only touched the surface of the experience, for the days didn’t offer enough time to record the inspiration each brought. I haven’t returned to read any of it, but can’t stop thinking of it all. Folks ask “was it what you expected?” and “what was your favorite part?”, two questions I can’t quite answer with anything more than an anecdote or two, but the one question I can answer is “what was the hardest part?” The answer to that is; coming home.

I’ve had a rough time getting here. I started from the Vancouver airport two Saturdays ago and within 12 hours had covered the distance it took over two months to pedal. During the flight I looked out the window trying to discern something below that was familiar, and imagined I did, but the perspective from 36,000 feet at 600mph is far different. The mountain roads looked flat, the rivers just random squiggles through the landscape, the massive wheat fields just sheets of yellow. Irrigated green circles framed in grey passed below, odorless. This flashback did no justice to my recollection of a fat grain of wheat or perfume of alfalfa, there were no water towers announcing an oasis of humanity sprouting from the endless landscape, not a church steeple over any of the congregations about to welcome us with local recipes and sanctuary. No, that wasn’t under me, for it is over, behind me somewhere fading in memory.

God knows my heart aches for you, America. Not for what the media presents you as, but for who I know you are. I fell in love every day, taking part of you with me but never feeling burdened for it. I miss you so, and those who accompanied me in this adventure. My fellow cyclists and I share an experience so special for the generosity you showed and the endurance they demonstrated. All of you; sponsors, hosts, and cyclists, will live in me for the rest of my days, for each of you offered something that is now an essence of my being.

It’s been a struggle since we parted ways. My views toward the things I thought were mine had changed. I felt I was simply returning to serve my possessions, my employer, my obligations; my sentence. We led a simple life on the road, serving our mission toward providing decent housing for those less fortunate so that they may be better able to live as families contributing to their communities. I returned in my leased car to my mortgaged house in a neighborhood of strangers and was back to my job that is so necessary to keep it all, none of which I wanted any more. Inside I was kicking and screaming, fighting against what I’ve selfishly squandered my life for.

Understanding the psychological dynamics of culture shock, and knowing all along I’d suffer it doesn’t reduce the suffering. I’ve been through it before. In 2005 I worked in Hong Kong for a couple of months and then again in 2008, each time having a remarkable experience. Even along the way of this Fuller Center Bicycle Adventure I experienced culture shock, which for me has three phases; enchantment, disenchantment, and acceptance. The return from each experience is an ice-cold plunge I anticipate but still can’t prepare myself adequately for. It’s just a matter of adjusting and finding perspective.

One thing I’ve learned from life is to reach out for help during such times, and to take measures to ameliorate the symptoms. From this recent trip I was inspired by all the churches we were guests of, realizing the role of that institution in society and their importance to the individuals attending. Folks who participate in community are just better folk, and I want to be like that. There is the relationship with God I’ve merely maintained but failed to nurture, so Sundays I’ve started the practice of driving out in the morning and simply dropping by one of His houses until I find a home. I’ve been inspired to serve mankind, and imagined going off somewhere to serve someone, somehow, but now realize instead of going to some imaginary land serving an imaginary people with imaginary tasks I must look at where my feet are, and then start walking to the nearest need to satisfy it. Tomorrow I resume service at the local retirement community.

Another practice I must resume is something I learned in Hong Kong. While standing among the masses in the subway I looked about with amazement at that place, while those around me were blindly staring into space, electronic device, or just nodding in bored fatigue. Our perspectives were very different. I then thought if I took any one of them back to my mundane world they’d be just as wide-eyed in amazement as I was at that moment, so why can’t I look at my day-to-day with those eyes instead of glazed indifference? I watch fireworks every night at work if I want, but have found if I turn my back to the show to watch it reflect in the faces of our guests, I see a different light. Life is remarkable, everywhere, always.

America, you’re beautiful.

It’s good to be home.

FCBA Day 63- Bellingham Washington to Vancouver British Columbia

 

We had a casual ride to the Canadian border where we stopped for coffee and pastries as the group -reassembled. I donned my celebration shorts, we shot a little bit of video for the FCBA 2014 promotion trailer, and we headed to Peace Arch entry. There we were scrutinized by the Canadian border patrol and allowed entry. We were met by our native guides who explained the rather complicated route we were going to take on our way to Vancouver. Our first stop was the beach for the front wheel dipping ceremony as we officially reached the Pacific Ocean. Bret took it further, riding his bicycle as far as possible toward Hawaii, while others went for a full body dip. We then lined up for photos, and Melissa had a few words for each of us in appreciation for our contributions. We prayed in thanks while remembering of the others who were participants earlier the ride, as well as those of congregations along the way who helped us so much. Then it was on to Vancouver.

This day, by itself, was an adventure. Our route took us down dead end roads that continued only as gravel ruts requiring we walk and then over bridges of all sorts and a very unusual route of sidewalks and bicycle paths. There was no way any of us could have made the route without direct guidance, so we remained a cohesive group through the city. This made for very slow travel, probably averaging 6mph overall with all the stops to regroup after hills and traffic signals that spread us out.

It seemed to go on forever. I had two flats, a near crash into a concrete barrier and a “zeromph”. Zeromph is a word I coined and was widely adopted and practiced by all during the ride. It is a painful and embarrassing moment when you come to a stop and can’t get your feet out of the pedals, just flopping over onto the ground un-gracefully; a zero mile-per-hour crash. This sometimes happens when narrow tires stop in soft ground, or stop rolling while struggling on hills, or when I miscalculate the acceleration of the rider in front and cross my front wheel with his rear, as I did in this case. Though the route was carefully planned and charted we had great difficulty finding our way. We finished the 35 miles in around 5 hours, just as the group was grumbling mutinously and some actually abandoned us to successfully head off on their own. I was seriously considering dropping into one of the local hotels along the way just to end the ordeal. It certainly was a great moment as we arrived at the Vancouver Church of Christ and suddenly everything was just fine. Kert’s sisters were there with a banner for him, as was Kristi’s sister who met us. It was very thoughtful of them to go through the effort to travel here to join the celebration.

My bicycle is now in the trailer and my luggage will be soon as I prepare to fly home. I’m disposing of these things that were so valuable to me along the way but have outlived their purpose. I packed too much for this trip and jettisoned much, lost more, wore out still more…and still my bag is overstuffed. I am re-evaluating what I need in life, and have learned to consider living far more simply and fully.

These blogs are more an account of my travels through this land and barely express where I’ve really been; places within myself just as amazing as the landscape. It will take time for me to reflect on all I’ve been through and perhaps write about- this experience has had a profound influence on me that my words haven’t revealed, and maybe I’ll share them soon, but one thing is certain; it is only the beginning of This American Adventure.

FCBA Day 60, 61, 62- Grand Coulee to Twisp to Marblemount to Bellingham

 

Tuesday- What a great day! The only drawback is that I can’t claim I pedaled all the way across America, though I did remain on my bike. It’s apple harvest time here in Washington. The apples are picked, put into massive crates, and the crates are hauled on special use tractors to the packing plant. These tractors travel at relatively slow speeds- the speed of a bicycle as a matter of fact. On the downhill they are easy to pass, but when they reach the next uphill they pass me, so…

I was following really close thinking I’d get a draft behind him, but then just decided to grab hold. It was great just being pulled up the hill and the driver was unaware of me. We got to the crest of the hill and I just launched myself forward giving him a wave as I overtook him. Down the road I had another opportunity, and Kurt caught a few shots of me as I passed. Ride map and data

 

This part of Washington is desert where it isn’t irrigated for farming, but changes quickly in the mountains.

Wednesday- Twisp to Marblemount took us into the Cascades Mountains and a 17 mile climb. The scenery is spectacular, with north faces of the mountains still with snow. I was in need of water, so took advantage of the melt running down the cliff onto the road. From the eastern pass there was a remarkable downhill, and then another climb to the west pass followed by miles of downhill all the way to Marblehead. There were warning signs along the road stating there were strong cross winds and there were- so much so that even though going downhill I had to pedal to keep my speed up at times. The steep peaks towering overhead provided the backdrop for Diablo Lake, a man made water reservoir filling the valley with the most incredible aquamarine colored water, so bright blue for the glacial water washing minerals that accumulate and refract a light that tempted some of our riders to stop and wade. Ride map and data1 Part II

Thursday- I write as the congregation’s Ukrainian choir rehearses and the sun sets over the Pacific. The old world tone is somber and reverent, evoking more emotion from an already emotional day.

 In Marblemount we had an “un-talent” show where those so inclined offered comedy, poetry, song, and unusual skills and competitions. I drove a nail into my face, and another freak act that hopefully will never make YouTube. Nate and the Drag Kings (including Alex, Ben, and Steve) offered video fun at my expense, which simultaneously humiliated, humbled, and flattered me. I will have my revenge one day.

Tonight we are guests of the Bellingham Lutheran Church, who provided dinner. Afterward we had prayer and acts of Christian service. It was a tender sharing that brought tears to all. After experiencing so much for the past 9 weeks we are closely bonded for life, and parting will be most difficult.

It was cold leaving Marblemount but warmed up after our first 20 miles. At the 18 mile mark we were the guests of an alumni, Cher, whose church provided a much better breakfast than we had on our own. From there I got separated from the group and took a detour for 9 miles but got back on track. Partial map and data

Around 50 miles into the ride we could smell the sea, and shortly after found it, following the coastal highway into Bellingham. Pacific coast ride

Tomorrow’s ride takes us to Vancouver where we will go to the Pacific and end our trip by dipping our front wheels. We will have one more night in one more church, and then make our separate ways. I wish I had more time to write, for there is so much more to every day than I can post here. My only hope is that what I do record will be inspiration to me as I reflect in the months to come.

FCBA Day 57- Moscow Idaho to Spokane Washington

 

Goodbye Idaho; I’ll never forget you. Hello Washington; you have a tough act to follow.

The day started out rainy as we left Moscow and in a short distance we were on a bicycle path. Unfortunately the border between Idaho and Washington isn’t marked on the path, so once again I missed a border sign photo opportunity. The best I could do was get a sign shot for Washington Street after we were well into Washington and nearing Spokane. Most of the route was lined with wheat well into the horizon, and during a break I grabbed a head of it to chew. The stuff isn’t bad at all, but would be better if you ground it up, bleached it, added some fat, salt, sugar, red dye #6, sodium benzoate and wrapped it in colorful plastic. I mean, that’s what we do with it after all, right?

It was an 85 mile ride as the sweep (last rider). As I mentioned above it started out rainy, so for the 59 degree temperature at 7am I was outfitted in leggings, arm warmers, and jacket but after 8 hours of riding I was still wearing the warmers and leggings and barely broke a sweat at any point during the day. The hills were mild, mostly long rolling expanses that weren’t challenging so it was rather leisurely, if not mundane for the cloudy sky and lack of change in scenery. Ride map and data

We are guests of Westminster United Church of Christ, the oldest church in Spokane but very progressive. The ladies of the congregation provided dinner for us and I look forward to church services tomorrow, and a day off the bike. I must mention Gold’s Gym as well, for they have provided unlimited use of their facilities for the time we are here, so are the source of our showers. The best part of that is that they have a hydro-massage table which really does a fantastic job relaxing my leg muscles. That is one thing I’ve suffered during the past two months; chronic muscle pain. Not tonight, though. Thank you Gold’s Gym!

 Ok, not the state line, but it says Washington.

 I have a ghost in my room!

 My lil buddy Alex

Thank you Westminster!

FCBA Day 56- Boise to Moscow with points between

 

What an incredible week! Boise was a rest day spent in reunion with a high school friend I hadn’t seen in 38 years. We caught up on life, reminiscing old times and sharing our stories gained in our years apart. We went to Snake River Canyon on Sunday for healing; my mentor guided me so many burdens were lifted from me as I traded light for darkness. I had an experience unlike any I’ve ever had and have been shown ways of ancient spiritual pursuit that are new to me.

From Boise we’ve been riding through the mountains and hills to McCall, Grangeville, Lewiston and now Moscow. I started this trip with abandon, accepting anything the road may present and though have found much inspiration along the way, but nothing compares to Idaho. This is my first time here and I can’t wait to explore more of the Northwest; I’m seriously thinking of calling this place home one day.

Into Idaho was pretty much desert, but suddenly the landscape blossomed as we neared Boise. There on the edge of the desert is the Snake River Canyon, as I mentioned above, and then turning green heading northward. Boise to McCall ride data (partial) From there we followed the Snake River along its course through the state as it makes its way to the Columbia River. Boise to McCall video We arrived in the mountain town of McCall as guests of Our Savior Lutheran Church. We were served a hamburger dinner, of beef organically raised by one of the parishioners. A few of us slept outside under the stars, which turned to rain at 3am sending us inside. We rose just after four to a breakfast of fruit and fresh baked goods, again provided by members of the church. We were on the road by 6, just before sunrise. It was cool enough to where all wore leggings, arm warmers, and some with coats. Even after sunrise it was quite cool, for the river runs between mountainous hills that block the sun most of the time.

The downhill from McCall was exhilarating, blowing my cheap Vivitar camera out of my pocket. I discovered it missing while reaching for it as I was halfway down the mountain, and thought of riding back up to look for it when I realized it would be a worthless effort. There is a bit of traffic on this mountain so I was certain if it had survived the fall it would have been crushed anyway. Subsequent riders following who I met at the bottom reported seeing it shattered on the road. I have my Pentax so can continue with time-laps and standard video, adapting my shooting habits. All is well. Most of the remaining miles were downhill, until White Bird. From mile 75 to mile 83 we climbed just under 3000 feet on 6% to 9.5% grades, with one stretch at 11.1 according to my Strava data showing an average speed of around 5.5mph. McCall to Grangeville ride data The last 11 miles were predominantly downhill and swift. This was my most difficult day lately. We were hosted that evening in Grangeville with dinner, taking showers at the local community pool. McCall to Grangeville video

The next morning started at sunrise and headed to Lewiston. Most of the ride was a very gradual increase of altitude, but then Old Winchester Road presented the most magnificent view over the adjacent valley, and over 15 miles of downhill switchbacks. This was the best ride of the entire trip and can be viewed at Lewiston ride video for those into road cycling perhaps a bit of the thrill can be conveyed. Lewiston ride data

In Lewiston we had our workday. We were split up into teams, two of which built wheelchair ramps. From the video you will see that this project I was on wasn’t in a downtrodden neighborhood. Lewiston build video was for a couple in need of a wheelchair ramp who purchased the materials and instead of hiring a contractor, contacted the local Fuller Center Covenant Partner to offer a donation for the service. This type of partnership brings funds into the local foundation so they can more readily provide for other projects while using our surplus of labor, and brings media attention to the parent foundation. The work was very well planned and supervised so all of us finished with a great feeling of accomplishment.

This morning we slept in, with breakfast hosted by the Church of the Nativity Episcopal Church. From here we headed northward out of town and uphill on Old Spiral Highway as we climbed out of the river valley for 8 miles of 6% grade. From there it was relatively flat with some tail wind and then rain for the last 10 miles. Lewiston to Moscow ride data We are guests of the Christian Life Center who provided dinner, and we took showers a few miles away at Logos High School. Tomorrow is Spokane, 85 miles and into Washington where we will have a rest day and start our final week of the trip into Canada. (Lewiston to Moscow video not available at time of post- see my YouTube channel later).

 Shopping real estate in the Snake River Canyon

 Waterfront with canyon view.

 White Bird, land of the Nez Perce tribe.

 Maybe next summer I'll finish this part of the trip.