bike for climate

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The feels. Aching back and knees. Probably because of my own mistreatment to myself, forgetfulness and misguided pedal assembly. I dunno. A continent behind me. With a set of tire tracks that ran the whole thing. A story bottled up inside of me that I probably can’t capture in just a few lines. The moment was larger than I could feel all together. Mountains and rivers and pra...

            After getting a good night’s sleep and shelter from an afternoon storm in the sheepherder’s wagon in Ovando, I was on my way to Missoula. The fog was thick that morning and I biked with all of my layers on for a good part of the morning biking along the Blackfoot River. Through valleys and along mountains and thinking of Norman Maclean.

            Started to find my...

Ever since we left Minneapolis Ben has waved to every single group of bikers on the highway. They’d motor by in a noisy cluster, leaving us in their fumes or with the echoes of their oversized engines powering down the highway in the opposite direction. Someone mentioned that we were all en route to the same place. We should have had leather jackets though. The whisper of Ben’s chain and the way that his “See you in Sturgis!!”...

Hard to wake up the morning we left Sioux Falls. We'd been staying in a basement apartment and it never felt like the sun had really come up. Groggily we put our things together and said our goodbyes to our host, John, and left the city around 10am. Biking toward Mitchell, SD.

Discovered fairly quickly that we wouldn't be able to trust Google Maps for bikes on our phones as we crept out of Sioux Falls. Instead of following...

People make the trip. I've said that a couple of times over. But I think it was incredibly apparent in Minneapolis. We had such a great stay. We had such good company. 

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On the way in to Minneapolis Ben and I were riding on the "connector route" between the University of Minnesota St. Paul Campus and the main campus in Minneapolis. We waved to cyclist on the way and said hello. He turned around and caught up with us to chat...

"It's on an Isthmus-- which is such a rare geographic phenomenon," Ben explained. "And It's a capital city... It's a college town." We were sitting on the porch of the Coop where Colin lived. It was evening and there were six or seven of us on couches outside watching the sunset over lake Mendota from beneath a sheltered overhang. The several imperial looking support columns that outlined the perimeter of the porch had been de...

I've been prompted by my mother to write more frequently. She texted me the other day asking for more updates on the trip and I told her that I was "working on it." Perhaps I'm not doing that well enough. The reason why we have this blog is so that we can share the experiences that we're having as we make our way "west-and then west some more." Despite the spotty internet and limited time to write on long days I always feel li...

We left Ruth's house in Lisbon at 9:30am and hit the bike trail about a mile from Ruth's house toward Kent. I was pretty bent on seeing the May 4 Memorial at Kent State University. 

After a bit of climbing in the morning the route finally flattened out. And it's been flat every day since. 

Too many feelings to do the memorial at Kent State Justice. That night we stayed with folks outside of the University who talked over th...

Apologies for the enormous gap in posts. For the past ten days Ben and I have had intermittent wifi- and probably too much on the legs to work our brains properly. The landscape has really changed. Sitting in my Godfather's kitchen in Pittsburgh with slightly overcast Fourth-of-July weather wishing that I had written more on paper so that I could just transcribe the thoughts for you. As long as this post could be-- I'll try to...

I think there are two kinds of memories: moments and sensations. They're similar, but vastly different in the way that we carry them with ourselves through life. Moments- which come and then last in recovered experiences- are like paintings for the senses. They are the references that we continuously come back (or that keep coming back to us) in a flood of images, sounds, smells, textures, and tastes that are static in nature....