A weight on our shoulders, a mountain up ahead

Difficult to believe that it's been two weeks since I've been able to post an update --- my apologies! Cell phone service, let alone internet, has been difficult to come by since we left Farmington, New Mexico and trekked west across the desert and the Navajo Nation in Northern Arizona. Such sparse population may frustrate communication and my need for frequent snack stops, but it's made for a kind of beautiful desolation. That, coupled with the sometimes Martian landscape, makes it hard to believe that this terrain is a part of the same earth where elsewhere trees grow green and abundant water laps at shores.

I wish I could share the host of amazing experiences we've had over the last two weeks, from flying down a gravel road to swim Lake Powell after 101 miles to hiking down to a waterfall-fed swimming hole in the Grand Canyon, but for us a pall has been cast over even these wonderful days by the death of Paige Hicks. Paige was a leader on Bike and Build's Providence to Seattle route, and on July 20 was struck and killed by a tractor-trailer while stopped on the shoulder of a road in South Dakota. More information about the accident and the course of action that Bike and Build has taken in response can be found at www.bikeandbuild.org. I would ask especially that you think about sending a note to Paige's family or the riders on her route, P2S (mail drops can be found on the website). We're working hard to let them know that they are being thought of with sympathy and kindness, and they sure can't have too much of that right now.

This has been a heavy blow to everyone in our organization, but it is one that can only reinforce our commitment to the value of what we are doing, despite the inherent risk. It is difficult to acknowledge, but each of us understood that an awful accident like this is well within the realm of possibility out there on the road. Our route has been fortunate to proceed so far without major accidents, but we've seen these things too many times to recount: motorists have brushed or forced our riders off the road, hung out of windows to shout or even swing at us, oncoming drivers have chosen to pass in our lane even as several of us cyclists are coming up a shoulderless road, drivers suddenly turn right without any signal or regard for our cyclists coming up on the shoulder, drivers and trailers have passed us within a foot or two and blared their horn just as they come alongside us.

We understand that it is often difficult to share the road, but it is a right that cyclists deserve and, fortunately, legally possess on all of the roads we ride. The difference between allowing a narrow but relatively safe berth of three feet and choosing to try and scoot by with only several inches is, for us, life and death. It is disturbing to see how many drivers are willing to roll the dice on our lives to save a few seconds of their time. Each year, nearly 700 hundred U.S. cyclists lose that gamble and pay with their lives, and tens of thousands face serious injuries.

We know that cyclists often endanger themselves when they fail to be careful and vigilant, but all of Bike and Build's riders have been drilled on practices to keep us safe and let traffic move freely. Paige's accident is an extra exhortation to us to stick to those religiously. I hope that it is also a wake up call for motorists to be more mindful of cyclists, and, when passing cyclists, to allow a margin of error greater than the drift of a foot in the wrong direction. I would also urge you, if you see a driver endangering or menacing cyclists, to please get the license plate and report the incident to the police. It shouldn't have to be a death or serious injury that teaches a likely well-intentioned driver to be more careful.

Paige was a 21-year old student at Brown University, who hailed from St. Louis, Missouri. I had never met her, but I know that she possessed the tremendous ambition, determination, and goodwill necessary to undertake this trip (for a second time, even). Many, many people would go to the ends of the earth to have her back.

Land of Enchantment!

We've enjoyed a day off in Santa Fe today, an incredibly picturesque city situated beneath the Sangre de Christos Mountains. Bike shops here were especially generous to us as we loaded up on supplies, tires, and new chains before setting off into the desert. A special thanks goes out to Mellow Velo, for the discount they offered and the care package of clif bars and electrolyte chews!

I spent some time today working with the church hosting us here to prepare the free meal, frito pie, they provide to those in need, particularly the city's immigrant day laborers. Speaking with the people there quickly gave me insight into the flip-side of the city's attractive aesthetics and major art markets. Because so many people of means are eager to live in Santa Fe, property values go up. For low-income home owners, this can be a boon as it increases the value of their major asset and investment, their home. But this also means that property taxes increase, and over the past decade in Santa Fe many locals have had to sell their homes and move miles away into the nearest city. So much for any "trickle down effect" from the concentration of the affluent here!

Here's my bit for the trip journal from July 10:

Today was just our second full ride day in New Mexico, but the rolling grasslands, red sandstone ridges, and classic canyons have made for what I would say is the most amazing landscape we’ve seen yet. We started our warm-up for the Grand Canyon back in Texas at Palo Duro (my favorite off the bike experience, hands-down), but I am each time amazed as an otherwise flat and featureless plain suddenly opens up beneath us to reveal what color and what texture water (given a few thousand millennia) can coax from the rock under the earth.

After our first 20 miles to Las Vegas we hit a few nice downhills, but a significant headwind prevented us from reaping the full fruits of that momentum. Around one sweeping curve a sign appeared to warn of an impending 8% downgrade and I, separated from a group, pulled up to wait for some company on what I hoped would be one of our faster descents. As I turned back to catch some riders changing a flat, Colin came around the curve by himself. He sighted the 8% sign, we exchanged a grin, shifted up, and started mashing towards the drop. The slope and our speed increased gradually, but after a second warning sign the road suddenly dropped like a stone towards the floor of a surprise canyon (!) carved by the Canadian River. Colin’s heavier frame and slicker wheel hubs had him rolling further ahead of me, but wide sweeps in the road let us both pedal the straights and turns to approach and, in Colin’s case, exceed 50 MPH.

We screamed the mile down to the canyon floor in about 75 thrilling seconds, and stopped there for a few war whoops and a glance up at the steep stone walls now rising around us. Other riders descending gave us an additional thrill, but that excitement was soon tempered by the acknowledgement that canyons are, in a certain sense, just inverse mountains. So we had a serious climb ahead of us! Still, there were no low spirits on the 2 miles up (at a slighter grade, thankfully), and had it not been for the near-century set on our plate that day I think more than a few of us would have turned around and, added climbing notwithstanding, taken another trip from rim to floor for a second shot at a speed record!

I wish there were more to say about the other 94 miles ridden today, but I suppose it says something about what we’re doing and about cycling generally that a 6-hour ride can pack all of its energy, adrenaline and amazement into that one stunning minute!

Everything is ________ in Texas

Unlike Louisiana and Mississippi, there was no guesswork involved in determining whether we'd crossed into Texas. An enormous "Welcome to Texas" sign and dozens of Lone Star flags both flying and painted onto barns, curbs, and storefronts made it all quite clear. With just 3 ride days from the border to Dallas, our ambitious schedule had us zooming 90 miles across the surprisingly steep and verdant rolling hills of East Texas, through Carthage, Athens, and then Sunnyvale. Today we ticked off 90 miles from Dallas to Decatur, and, with the aid of blistering tailwind spun from a disintegrating hurricane, myself and another rider covered the last 40 miles in about 1 hour 45 min. I'd swear there was smoke coming off the road!

Though our impression has been that the folks in Louisiana were the kindest, Texans have served up some singularly impressive hospitality. Rick and Elaine in Carthage welcomed, for the fifth year, all 33 of us to sleep on their floor, swim in their pool, and stuff ourselves silly with a slow-smoked beef brisket. Pete and Sally in Sunnyvale for three straight days took it upon themselves to ensure that we never went more than a few hours without a lavish and generous meal, a debt I hope we at least partially repaid by framing and raising the exterior and interior walls for a new home built by the Garland County Habitat for Humanity affiliate.

Our second night at Pete and Sallys, we were treated to some Texas-sized burgers and ate with several folks who had earned Habitat homes. I spoke for sometime with Julia, who works for the Stetson hat company. She recalled applying for a home and, shortly before the list for that year would be cut, received a raise. Worried that it might compromise her eligibility but determined to act honestly, she reported the raise straightaway. As it turned out, it was the raise that made her eligible, without which she would have fallen below H4H's minimum income for managing her mortgage. 2 and a half years later, she and her two children moved in, and she spoke movingly about the impact that it has had on her son and daughter. For both children, she said, having the home has boosted their sense of security and stability, but she noticed the most profound impact for them emotionally was the boost it gave to their self-esteem. Julia explained that having a home didn't just provide a sense of worth, but a sense that there were opportunities for them that they could work to realize. Those insights were, for me, probably the most significant affirmation of our work's worth!

So the rolling hills have evened out to a characteristically flat landscape, but with the increasing July heat we can feel the moisture disappearing from the air as we chug west. Not far from the deserts and canyonlands of old west now...