Biking cross country in support of affordable housing in America and other adventures!

New Portland Life

2009-09-24T23:17:00.000-07:00

Hello from the Bridge City! I arrived a month ago "to stay for a few days" but my ridiculous uncle Rex lured me into staying for two weeks - including a very memorable trip to the coast to go deep sea fishing. (See picture to the left - I puked off the railing like this for the entire five hour journey and Rex kindly interpreted this as an excellent photo opportunity!) Despite this rocky start, Portland's charm kept me here a little longer. The people are even friendly than the midwest and the South! Everyone's got some quirky passion and is willing to cram into tiny old houses to pay the rent and not work too much. Free stuff, from food to concerts to couches, abounds! And I've even got a job tutoring military recruits in middle school level math to pay the necessary bills. I've been living in an up-and-coming area of town called Mississippi, but my sublet sadly ends in a week, so I've frantically been house-hunting and think that I've landed a place in the central industrial district where the homeless people are sweet, the squatters are plentiful, and the investors are eying as the next hotspot for development. Don't worry, Mom, the "sketchy" in Portland is probably equivalent to the "nice" places in New Orleans. Of course, I miss the hot, humid and crazy nature of NOLA but Portland is the first city to feel right, so I think that I'll be sticking around for a while - even if it rains for the next seven months. Come visit!

Jestes Wolna Jak Ptak

2009-06-28T15:10:00.000-07:00

“You are free like the birds” … life after college in the most beautiful place in

America

Glacier is an absolute natural jackpot. For every mile your hike, you’re rewarded with waterfall, majestic lake, wild animal, view of the Rockies, or all of these! The deer, elk, bears, moose, and sheep abound. Even the 90% of visits who do not hike more than 100 meters from there car are able to see most of these sights from the inter-mountain highways which wind through the park. The roads are often blocked by “bear jams” in which tourists spot an animal and stand on the road staring while all other cars stop to join. Despite the crazy confused tourist, I love it here.

Of course, I can’t play in the wilderness all day since I have to work here. But some of my coworkers and I still confuse our new lives with memories of summer camp. The only differences I’ve found are that we don’t care packages anymore (although that can change…) and activities are replaced by work shifts (but they are getting more enjoyable).

Since I’m working at the front desk here, I’m learning great hotel secrets. My hospitality tip of the day: when a hotel calls itself “rustic” think of this in terms of a dead-bad smells in rooms or holes in cabin walls. It’s like calling a child “loveably ugly” or someone “adorably dysfunctional” – its not exactly a compliment once you think about it!

Mt. Rushmore is overrated – I stop there on my 23 hour (1600 mile) trip out to Glacier. It’s a bit ironic that esteemed naturalist President Roosevelt decided to blow up the side of a gorgeous mountain for a monument. To be fair, he didn’t quite sanction his face being placed on but it could not have come as a surprise to him when he hired a good friend to design and oversee the project.

More about rafting, horseback riding, helicopter rides, and my weekend on the ranch in the Bitter Root valley later.

Dla Ciebie

2009-01-08T08:54:00.000-08:00

“For you,” here are my five favorite things about Krakow and my study abroad experience in general:

1. My research project about Pope John Paul II (Popius Jan Pawel Druga, po polsku!). I completed a series of interviews under the guidance of a Dominican monk, Profesor Rys. Once a week I would visit his monastery for storytime about his life, the Church, and soemtimes John Paul as well.

2. Language lessons with Pani Jagoda as I learned so much more than just Polish. Here we are together with Kuba, the only other person in my program.

3. I joined a gym when it got cold. My frequent misunderstandings there never ceased to entertain me. “Mlyn” had a coffee shop downstairs and workout rooms upstairs. Behind the brightly-lit windows are people walking on the treadmill while talking on their cell phone, red-shirt instructors demonstrating exercises which I swear do not do anything to build strength, and weightlifters who would stop their routine to dance along to Brittney Spear’s newest hit song!

4. Polish food. It was delicious and inexpensive. Plus I particularly enjoyed the “Stary Kleparz” (Old Market) which had an abundance of cheap produce and cheery old ladies.

But we must not forget that Polish people really enjoy meat best. This booth was in the Christmas market in the old town square.

5. As much I love Krakow, I also appreciated the chance to see elsewhere in Europe. I visited Berlin (first picture), Prague (second picture), Paris, a small town in Southern France, and London. I also did travel to some smaller towns in Poland.

Final Thoughts:

Krakow is a perfect study abroad compromise. While it is new and different, it was not hard to integrate into the culture. I enjoyed introducing American traditions like thanksgiving and peanut butter cookies to Polish students in my dorm as well as exchanging stories about the different college experiences. I also liked that everyday life was a challenge always with something to discover in Krakow and about Polish culture. The academic components, since yes it is study abroad, focused on outreaching into Polish culture and not just sitting in a classroom. In the end, I have gained immense respect for three things: academia’s role in society, Poland as a unique and thriving country, as well as the people who I had a chance to get to know. Last but not least, I appreciated that Polish people are so nice and the city is so beautiful. Here’s one last picture:

Old Polish Post: Bylam Praha i Berlin

2008-10-16T05:35:00.000-07:00

Mad props if you can guess the meaning of this title. And for my grandpa Ron for supposedly being my #1 reader.

The torture museum in Prague was a highlight. Yes, I know this sounds rather grotesque. It's not the mechanics of the contraptions that I found interesting but the history and human implications behind the exhibits were fascinating - like the general population's willingness to go along with such injustices and even join in by offering additional blows to those in shackles on the town square as well as the sexist standards of medieval society. My sister Nina might be proud that I walked away significantly more of a feminist than I would like to admit.

The enormity of Berlin and its vibrant cultural life absolutely overwhelmed me. After a few whirlwind tours and museum visits, the Jewish Museum was possible the best done I've seen from the building's architecture to minute details of each exhibit. Alternatively, the Hamburger Bahnhof, Berlin's modern art museum, had the creepiest exhibit called "the cult of the artist" complete with a garage projecting images of oversized sleeping clowns, completing with their snoring sounds in the background.

I also very much enjoyed the diversity in Berlin after the somewhat ethnic monotomy of Poland. It was refreshing to hear other languages, including Polish! But more importantly, it was fantastic to have a huge variety of food. the Indian feast to street side kebabs and falafels to the best apple strudel of my life.

Speaking of nourishment, I've also discovered a personal affection for dark beer.

Moj telefon jest zaba

2008-09-27T09:13:00.001-07:00

Polish pronunciation reminds me of my con law exams which only made me want to bang my head against the table over and over and over again. So, I can’t sound it out for y’all but this phrase literally means “my phone is a frog” which in all honesty is true as this is a ring tone option for my polish cell phone.

Onto other cultural shocks: a kind friend warned me about the prevalence of PDA in Europe. Typically, I’m not a fan of PDA, so the amount and degree here never ceases to astound me. But I’ll make exceptions of my disapproval for those that make me laugh. Say, the couple in the park who had brought along a boom box to accompany their afternoon rendezvous.

Speaking of music, Poland is an absolute heaven for my horrific taste – meaning that the people here and I share a passion for bad pop. Current American hits and Polish songs are in the mix but what gets me is that you can’t go very far without hearing a top dance hit from the 1990s – street side cafes, libraries, the pub downstairs, etc. It’s great!

Jeden, Dwa, Trzy, …

2008-09-27T09:10:00.000-07:00

1, 2, 3, … I like counts quite a lot. For example, when I drove from Denver to Philadelphia last summer, my friend and I tallied the number of pickup truck and SUV mentions in country songs – SUV’s won, fyi. Here in Poland, I’ve been counting nuns and cyclists.

Thus far, I’ve spotted one person wearing a helmet and only two road bikes. As the semi-cycling snob that I have become, I can’t bring myself to respect those guys who get decked out in spandex only to cruise (pretty slowly) along on a hybrid. Also, having seen and participated in many bike falls, I’m amazed that almost no one is wearing helmets.

In terms of nuns, I’ve seen at least 30 as opposed to back home where my lifetime count is 0 - not counting the hundreds in the Sound of Music which I watched every time I got sick until I was 17 or so. It’s comforting that nunnery is not a dying trade here and I’m sure the nuns are probably hiring—a very reassuring fact considering the economic crisis plus my senior year what do I want to do with my life crisis,. As is the military – on long runs and bad days, I mentally compare these career paths. I think the biggest downsides are: nunnery requires a lifelong commitment and I could get killed in the military. Which is worse?

In more realistic terms, studying abroad may be good for my job search. Surely, not having internet in my room and not being on campus for interview days and other events hosted by my career development office is a bummer. But more importantly, not having the stress of four Grinnell classes has allowed me time to think about the lovely question of what I want to do with the rest of my life.

In addition, being in a real city (no offense “city” of Grinnell, pop. 10,000), I’ve met people with jobs that I was considering – such as an ex-Enterprise Leadership Training Program participant who did not believe that the washing cars component built business skills and a Polish sports TV journalist who makes almost twice as much as a typical entry level journalist in America. Plus, all the construction and people in overalls reminds me how much I enjoyed New Orleans worksites.

At present, I’m still leaning towards the affordable housing industry with the larger dream of doing private development work for low-income families. Private companies usually don’t tackle affordable housing since its hard to make even a slim profit, but it is an existent, albeit small field which at the moment seems perfect for my skills and passions. However, I can see myself doing a lot of things in the mean time –

traveling for a year or so immediately after graduation,
working for a consulting company to build business skills and serve my time as an entry-level slave,
staying in Iowa to work and save money/pay off loans, or
going to graduate school (in what who knows?).

Enough about the future, today's weather is beautiful and now I plan to enjoy it!

Wczoraj

2008-09-27T09:05:00.000-07:00

Yesterday....I can't say last fall so this term will have to do. Regardless, I found this old life update on my computer which I intended to post here after I got home last winter break.

I am home recouping after another exciting semester at Grinnell. As usual, my life—despite its location in the midst of Iowa’s cornfields—seems to have taken me some very interesting places. Below are some highlights from the last couple of months:

Chicago Century - I originally wondered how in the world it would take FOURTEEN hours to make it 100 miles around the perimeter of Chicago, but the 10 mile per hour pace and frequent stops made this time span pretty easy. Starting the ride with 4 pieces of French toast and 3 slices of bacon pretty much set the ton for the day. I was also surprised when I arrived decked out in my usual garb—spandex, of course—that I was oddly dressed among the bunch who were mostly wearing street clothes. I mean one girl biked the whole day in Old Navy’s classic cheap plastic flip flops. We were only at mile 25 when we stopped for lunch and the first swim in Lake Michigan. Cool local tourist spots and bars with fun names were also frequented. Around dinner time (9 pm, mile 75), the leader of the bunch plopped a twenty-four pack on the table and announced loudly that “it is VERY important to stay well hydrated.” There was a midnight skinning dipping in Lake Michigan (my bike and build friends would laugh that instead of partaking I used this time to take a brief nap). We finally made it to 100 miles at 1:30 where people proceed to “re-hydrate” after a long day on the road. I made it home around 4 am and proceeded to wash the mud off my legs from a puddle I hit TWELVE hours ago.

Wedding Crashers - Strolling the streets of Chicago both nights, I just happened to come upon two different wedding parties – one a pre-marriage bachelor/bachlorette’s bash with live music at the local pub where everyone knew each other and I even got to meet the owner. The next night, we stumble in after a long day’s ride at 1:30 am to find a women in a wedding dress. In both cases, I got to meet the bride and groom and on the second night the excited bride even pulled me over as she proudly introduced me to her new husband. My question: what are wedding parties doing in bars this late at night with me?

In…and out…of “Debate House” - Grinnell College doesn’t have a Greek life, but some clubs (the baseball team, for instance) seem to form a substitute to the fun and social atmosphere my friends down south tell me sororities consist of. For me, debate fills this niche. As a result, I was really excited to move into debate house this year which is an “off-campus, college-owned project house.” But once I moved in, I couldn’t stop sneezing, itching my eyes, and waking up in the middle of the night. One morning, I almost convinced myself that I had pink eye – luckily (luckily?), it is just really bad allergies. Student Affairs kindly let me move and allowed me to take my wonderful roommate with me. We now live in possibly the loudest dorm on campus, and when they are not parties on every floor, I can sleep through the night!

Student Newspaper Columnist - I get paid to ramble about my opinions on religious life on campus and my “safety-third” life philosophy I picked up from an early retiree worker on a Habitat site in Jacksonville, FL. Its pretty sweet.

GPD - The Grinnell Police Department hired me as an office assistance for 2 months this semester. I enjoyed entering data (citations, parking tickets, and late fee-reminders) into their computer system and getting a legal insider view of the officers and the station dynamics. Plus, I got to see the plans for the new station and ran into plenty of my fellow students’ names through my work. Whoever said data-entry couldn’t be amusing?

Texas Ironstar Triathlon - After Bike and Build, I remained on an extreme sports kick and convinced a friend to sign up for a half-ironman race with me in late October. Really, I am not sure what I was thinking. The competition required that I finish a 1.2 mile swim, 54 mile bike ride, and 13.1 mile run in less than 8 hours. I mean, people quit their jobs to train for these things. We would call each other laughing about our faulty workout regime and tips about how to squeeze in training constantly. My friend would sprint on her bike between places on campus and then add up the ½ mile segments over the day and count it as a real 10 mile ride. Somehow we both finished with huge smiles. And as the youngest two females in the race, we got numbers 1 and 2 which race volunteers would pretend meant first and second despite so so slow pace.

Don’t be late to your flight - Those are the wise words of my mother before coming home for winter break. Being busy and not believing that Des Moines “International” airport (they fly to Canada, on occasion…like once a week) could ever be busy, I show up 30 minutes before my flight, wait in a surprisingly long line, discover that I could no longer check in and then learn that they are no feasible airline alternatives. I land on a 31-hour GreyHound trip home. So you think that the lesson is obvious and I would never show up late again. 10 days later, I am trying to go back to Iowa for the caucuses, am once again late, and as a result again miss my flight. But luckily for my fellow passengers who also didn’t make it to the gate in time, I was the only one standing there with experience of missing my flight so I called airport security

Life Goals - I have come up with three, very vague, but hopefully doable things I want to achieve:
1. I want to affect positive change through my career. (I told ya, they’re vague.)
2. I will do anything for 1 year so long as it (a) pays off my college loans and (b) is legal. (Any ideas? Let me know.)
3. I believe that American society has done some things very well such as promoting a fluid class structure (although arguably not equal opportunity, personal economic change is feasible), strong medical care, universal education, and a vibrant (although also imperfect) political culture, and be a part of extending some of these amenities to places around the world. This is much more of a long-term goal, but definitely something to keep in mind.

Pada Deszch Codziennie

2008-09-20T07:49:00.001-07:00

It rains everyday. (pronounced: pa-da day-sh-ch so-geen-ney.) Last week. Next week. Supposedly all of November. Regardless, I love it! Here are some highlights so far:

39 elderly Welsh travelers: This is not exactly who I would expect to spend one of my first days with, but my program met up with this group and we toured a monastery and some place with lots of folk art for which I've obviously forgotten the name. To my surprise, they seemed to be having a great time on their first trek to Poland with their surroundings and each other. My two favorite quotes had to be: an older gentlemen to a lady on the bus: "you can sit by me if your husband sits far away" and at the monastery: "this gravestone would make a beautiful counter top."

My new Polish diet: A slice of bread for breakfast, so much for lunch that I always sweat I'm never going to eat again (the perogi's are awfully filling), bread & cheese or a small soup for dinner, a few drinks, and way too much again sometime around midnight. A friend describes it as eating like a snake -- you continually alternate between fasting and feasting.

The European definition of working out: When out for a run, my brightly colored spandex and running skirt draws long stares from fellow park-goers who are not accustomed seeing anyone out jogging. Perhaps their surprise could be explained by my first visit to the neighborhood gym. All the treadmills were used by people walking for at least 45 minutes which surprised me since everyone here walks all the time. But then I realized that they were walking and chatting with friends all the while being chatted up by the nice guys in red shirts who are supposedly staff. (Really I think that they're paid to flirt with the female clients.) One middle aged lady was particularly enjoying their company. (If we were not at a gym, I would peg her as the resident alcoholic.) She professed her love of the red-shirt helpers to me then proceeded to fall them around asking for more workout advie. Ironally, I didn't see her do any actually exercises the entire time. Finally, there are machines that look like weightlifting machines in American gyms -- the only difference is that they have no weights. My conclusion: one can probably burn the same amount of calories in a dance club than in a gym and its basically the same effect: it's social and invovles mild cardio activity.

Men in Uniform: The outfits crack me up -- the construction workers with bright yellow overalls are my favorite. The most numerous are the security guards. They're everywhere – in the university library, McDonalds (a popular spot in Krakow), clubs, parking lots, standing over the passed out guy on the street, etc. Unfortunatley, this fascination is not mutual as they show little sympathy for me when I pay no attention to their foreign sayings and wonder into places I shouldn’t be.

Other than observing the cultural differences and beginning to assimilate myself to the Polish lifestyle, I'm managing to settle in slowly. They have been a few almosts -- almost fainting in a castle on the first day and almost getting lost on the first day of class. And a few unavoidable mishaps: spraining my ankle on the cobblestone streets, getting stuck in a mass in the cathedral, and realizing that few people know English and I know little Polish. Luckily, my professors are great and to my surprise, I'm in the midst of an intensive (almsot enjoyable) Polish language class. Overall, I've had a great first few days and am looking forward to an excellent semester.

Onto "Other Adventures"

2008-09-09T07:24:00.000-07:00

My plane leaves for Krakow, Poland in a matter of hours. This semester, I'll be researching Pope John Paul II for my thesis about religious leaders who also had political influence. Unofficially, I hope to explore as many parts of Europe and Krakow's famous underground pubs as possible. As much as I am looking forward to my time in Krakow, I have very few specific expectations, but the airline food and board games I can play on the way have had me giddy for weeks.

Before leaving, I've been trying to do all the things I might miss when I arrive. The first is obviously American food. So, I baked 6 pies then ate an entire package of hot dogs in less than three days. (To be fair, my dad helped me out by eating one.) I should probably grab a few candy bars before I go, just in case they don't have an ample supply of Snickers in Poland. I've also tried to experience the hot and humid weather of the South (just so I won't miss it too much), thus I've taken to going for long runs during the hottest point of the day. Not only do I get exhausted more easily at 4 pm but I get honked and yelled at by not so friendly rush hour drivers. Also, what is America without our insurance companies and bad drivers? I will always remember my car getting totalled by a pickup truck so big it would probably take up two lanes in european traffic! Apparently, this driver didn't get the memo that you're supposed to go forward at stop signs, not backwards into the meager honking car behind you.

Finally, I've searched old emails from friends who've been abroad and I must post my absolute favorite. My friend Ben went to China last fall and reported about the "Seamier side of China." He writes:

"We were all dying for some actual western food, so a group of us went over to an expat pizza place. At some point, Kyle had to go to the bathroom, so he gets up and wanders through the doors in the back. Five minutes later, he comes out, quietly sits down, and announces 'Just so you guys aren't surprised, there's a whorehouse back there.' There was a brief silence. 'How do you know it's a whorehouse?' someone asked. 'Well, there's a bunch of scantily clad women wandering around with some sketchy looking guys, but you're right, I shouldn't leap to conclusions.' Another brief silence. 'Alright, I've got to check this out.' Matt gets up, heads purposefully back through the doors, then walks out again 30 seconds later. 'Yep, it's a whorehouse.' Since that was the only bathroom, we all had to go in there at one point or another. It was essentially a very, very creepy bar with about thirty women in skanky clothing. Reminded me of Pahrump, only everyone was Chinese."

I must note as a disclaimer that I have absolutely no desire to have anything to do with a whore house while abroad. However, I yearn for similarly shocking and hysterical cultural differences that I can report back home.

Catch up

2008-09-09T07:03:00.000-07:00

I feel obliged to give more information about my life in between biking cross country and going to Europe.

Past adventures since I last updated:
-100-mile permeter ride around Chicago, Illinios
-half-ironman in Conroe, Texas
-summer internship with an affordable housing non-profit in Denver, Colorado
-Tri for the Cure in Denver, Colorado
-hiking twice as much uphill as down in the Weminuche wilderness and my first 14,000 foot climb (Colorado)
-turning 21 in downtown Charlotte, North Carolina

I realize that most of these are athletic. I've also declared an independent major ("Religion in Politics"), voted for the first time, wrote a column for the student newspaper, and worked as a senator for the student government. But I can assure you that triathlons are way more exciting than any student government meeting I've ever attended.

And some future adventures while I'm at it:
-Europe this fall
-Half-Marathon in Jacksonville, Florida this December
-Graduation in May
-then who knows what....

Memorable Stories

2007-08-26T09:13:00.000-07:00

I regret how little I had internet access and got a chance to update my blog during my trip. Below are a few highlights and excitement from West Texas onwards.

Two Texas Limos in Amarillo - Here was our first day off since New Orleans. We were so excited relax and live it up in the hoppin' town of Amarillo. To my delight (and surprise), I found a restaurant "the Big Texan" which promised to pick a group of us up in free-of-charge limos for their grand $8.95 breakfast buffet. Unfortunately, my dreams of my day off were shattered since as it turned out, I had to do laundry during the morning hours and was therefore unable to go over to the Big Texan. Since the original breakfast plan fell apart yet was never fully confirmed, I felt odd calling Tyson, my cowboy worker friend, to let him know that we went from being a maybe to a definite no. Assuming that maybe meant yes, he sent not one (as discussed) but two (a little excessive) limos to the downtown YMCA where we were staying. I luckily missed the fiasco--two confused drivers in full Texas cowboy gear wandering around the Y looking for some girl named Anna and a bunch of her friends-- since I was out doing laundry. Opps.

Cake in the Shoe - We got really hungry on the road. (I just realized that half of these stories are going to be about food which is quite appropriate.) One day right after the ride, we had two birthday cakes sitting around which we naturally start chowing down on without silverwear but with our unwashed, grease-covered hands. (Kinda gross, I know. Bike chain lube tastes horrible, fyi.) Nonetheless, we were still scrounging around for crumbs when the cake was gone. One of my leaders found a large chunk in someone's shoe -- intending to throw it away as a responsible and sane individual would, but he found himself in the midst of a conversation and out of instinct tossed the cake remnant into his mouth momentarily forgetting where it had come from.

Santa Fe Opera - Somehow the southern route turned out to be a tour of my mother's side of the family. I got a chance to see cousin Amy in New Orleans, the grandparents in their new home in Dallas, and then them again with Jill and Rex in Santa Fe. Here we enjoyed an evening at a summer production of La Boheme which was INCREDIBLE. It was my first opera and I was able to follow along the plot thanks to a pre-performance educational presentation in addition to my knowledge of Rent, the broadway play which took a lot of elements from the original opera. After that, they feed me a lot of really good food, allowed me to rest (on a couch -- a definite step up from gym floors), and we enjoyed a brief weekend wandering about Santa Fe.

Pie-Eating Romeo - Finding a deli for lunch in Arizona was a delightful break after the barren days of New Mexico and that desolate week to come in Nevada. Naturally, a typical sandwich was not enough for us hungry bike riders. So, as my friend Alf goes to order dessert, I whimsically (and mistakenly) joked that he couldn't eat the entire pie. Bets were wagered. I would pay for the pie if he could not finish OR finished then couldn't make it through the rest of the ride without booting. Low and behold, he ate the pie (which was not so tasty) and finished the ride. Ultimately, I would call the deal equal: I was out $15 for an overpriced pie, that I didn't eat, and Alf had to endure eating a sub-par pie and then riding the remain 35 miles with it in his stomach. (I am not at liberty to explain the second half of this nickname.)

The Plague - Nevada was difficult for its notorious headwinds (this was the only state where I was literally blown off the road), huge hills, and nothingness. But what we did not expect was the grand sickness (either food poisoning or a fast-hitting virus) that struck the vast majority of my team. At its worst, only eight of twenty-seven finished the ride. Six days later, we still had sick-ies in the van. When California finally came many long days later, this horrid disease finally subsided.

Life Jacket Bootie - With California came civilization as well as an extreme amount of tourists driving cars with motor boats attached and life jackets piled (unsecured) inside. One flew out onto the road and knowing that the owner would have little or no luck trying to find it after discovering it was missing and being against litter, my friend Rachel and I decided to pick it up and wear it for the remaining 25 miles of the day. Life jackets, unlike our bike and build jerseys, retain our body heat and sweat with two thick layers of plastic and tons of form making it not ideal of exercise in the afternoon. In order to not collapse of heat exhaustion, we switched back and forth. So, what do you do with a life jacket? We gave it as a birthday present to a tripmate who was notorious for picking up random stuff along the road.

Almost There!

2007-08-15T07:12:00.000-07:00

Just a quick note while I have internet access before I take off for my penultimate day of biking...

We made it to California via the beautiful Lake Tahoe last Thursday and have since been trucking through the many mountain ranges and well-appreciated flat land. I am writing from a Presbyterian church in Napa Valley and uh-oh, I have just been called to a morning route meeting before we get on the road.

Moral of the story: I am alive and well and will try to update, communicate, and reflect more once I get back to what a friend calls "civilian" life.

Delilah's Theory & the Cookies Curse

2007-08-03T12:22:00.000-07:00

When you are biking cross country, every day seems to be a challenge. And according to a friend on the trip, Delilah, it is almost as if we are secret agents battling against all kinds of currents in attempt to make it cross country. Some are more obvious -- like the huge hills and headwinds. But others, like the cookies curse, are much more subtle. When I was completing my third set of double centuries in Arizona, the weather and terrain were both gorgeous. Really we had nothing to complain about but we all were slightly sick. It was not until mile 75 on the second day when a group of us, all feeling the same way, finally figured out that gobbling down at least ten cookies at each rest spot was the real challenge of the day. Since what hungry cyclist can resist the goodness of mint kiddo's in replace for their 200th PB&J? Luckily, we no longer have so many cookies and I have succumb to supplement my now forced sandwich with a carrot or two.

Despite these obstacles, my trip has less than two weeks left. And with my legs which someone called tree trunks earlier today and a lot of excitement for San Fransisco, I think I can bike the loneliest highway in Nevada, complete a few last centuries, and make it to the Pacific Ocean!

Some long overdue pictures

2007-07-21T20:48:00.000-07:00

Starting out at the Atlantic Ocean.

Flea market in North Florida.

North Florida which seemed to last forever.

Finally leaving North Florida on a ferry!

An abandonned McDonald's sign on the Gulf Coast. (The building had been washed out to sea.)

Swamp land in Louisiana.

Lunch. We just get so hungry...

Southern Louisiana -- train track and farms were a famaliar sight.

Entering Texas we were still excited for our long visit, but those smiles faded as the ten long and hot days passed.

Swamp land in Texas? Apparently it is not all desert.

I didn't notice these feedlots with thousands of cattle until I heard someone else complaining about the stench. So as everyone else sprinted by, I stopped to take some pictures. Thanks Iowa!

We were trying to jump in this photo. Needless to say, we failed miserably.

Read the sign. We were not enchanted.

A much needed break in the middle of nowhere, New Mexico.

Another scenic spot in NM but with a small hint of civilization.

Starving as usual, we had just eaten our daily lunch of PB&J plus anything else we could scrounge for, a friend and I stopped at the side of the road where an Argentinian man was grilling chicken to the beat of 1960s music.

Oh, the Places You'll Go!

2007-07-15T05:40:00.000-07:00

Today marks the half-way distance of the trip. So, as I face the daunting hills and deserts of the West, I want to take some time to reflect on some of the places I have been.

Marianna, FL - A very generous and very Southern Baptist church took us in for the night. It was a shorter day, so not only did they provide dinner and breakfast the next day but they went out and got lunch when we arrived earlier than expected. Here was our first affordable housing presentation which was received with such enthusiasm from various members of the congregation who joined us for the evening meal. By this point in the ride, my group and I concluded that the deep South had an extreme abundance of three things: churches, dollar stores, and dead armadillos. Later in my ride, this rule of thumb has yet to let me down.

Mobile, AL - We arrived here after our first century ride. Excited from the day's accomplishments, a group of us had our first night on the town -- which ended up being surprising calm and early considering our exhausting and waking up the next morning at 6:45 (which is actually "sleeping in" compared to 4:00). But while out, I was able to meet a few people who promised that Mobile, to my great surprise, was indeed the home of Mardi Gras parties and still holds a popular and family-friendly event every year. Not a bad city considering this and the beach is beautiful and the fish restaurants are abundant, cheap, and (at least the one I tried) very good.

New Orleans, LA - This is still my favorite city in the world. And yes, I have been walking around the streets of NYC, Budapest and Rome telling whoever happened to be with me how X-city is great, but I will always like New Orleans better.

Natchitoches, LA - As the first British settlement in Louisiana, this city has a pretty rich history. Candy shops, local bookstores, restaurants, and gift shops located downtown overlook a lazy river and small park in the center of town.

Carthage, TX - Our first night in the great state of Texas, we were taken in by an '06 bike and build alumna's parents. They opened up their house for us to sleep all over and allowed us a taste of Texas food and hospitality. While there are many parallels between Texas and the South, this state is undeniably a separate entity. The tourist slogan is "a country of its own" which is no exaggeration from reality. Another slogan: "drive friendly -- the Texas way" has also proven to be true. As a cyclist, cars tend to zip by usually too close for comfort on both back roads and major highways, but cars (and A LOT of trucks) here have instead slowed down and granted us some wiggle room on the roads.

East Duke, OK - We took a break from the enormity of Texas and headed North to the border of Oklahoma for an evening. Oklahoma ... where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain ... did not let me down as it truly was everything that I imagined it to be. In this one town where I stopped to take pictures of the main street (right by the railroad tracks, of course), a local man stopped with me to tell me a short story about his town. Founded in the very beginning of the twentieth century, East Duke and West Duke had a continuous battle which had been sparked over the government granted the railroad company free land which it sold cheaply to the residence of East Duke. Enraged West Duke retaliated by occasionally burning buildings in their counter town which escalated into a thirty year conflict between the two. Finally, they came to a peace and together buried a hatchet in a time capsule under a main intersection. The true resolution, however, came when the main road in East Duke was paved in the late 1940's while West Duke was left with dirt roads and eventually perished to a sheetrock factory and a few abandoned foundations.

Memphis, TX - Everything was closed on Saturday afternoon when we got in. Their is a town square with all the main stores with a court house in the middle; this set up is becoming a familiar sight. But the emptiness of a weekend when in Charlotte or Grinnell people would be hustling about was almost eerie. A friend who went out last night also informed me that it is a dry county. And the library, to my dismay, is closed on Sundays AND Wednesdays. But the people are beyond nice. First Methodist treated us to a potluck dinner and a soon to come brunch. And the man I asked for directions to the post office offered to mail my letters for me since he was already heading that way.

Disclaimer: This list is very incomplete as I am running out of computer time but I hope to fill more in later.

Lose your house ... lose your teeth

2007-07-05T11:56:00.000-07:00

My group and I just finished up our time in the Gulf Coast. Our final days were spent building, rather than our usual biking, with one day in each Mobile, AL and Biloxi, MS plus four more in New Orleans, LA. The region is estimated to not fully come back for 10-15 more years. And although things are looking better in NOLA and almost back to normal by the coast, there are still some obvious repairs waiting to be made and most definitely a long road ahead.

One elderly man in New Orleans stopped to talk to a group and I while we were gutting his neighbor's house. True to the nature of most people in the city, he was quite friendly to us strangers and even more glad to hear that we were volunteers from around the country. He quickly launched into his story, since like many others, he is eager to share the pain and trouble which he and many others have silently been enduring since hurricane Katrina.

He didn't evacuate. He didn't explain why and many people stayed for different reasons. Some, no many, literally could not afford it. It was the end of the month, so the last pay check was long ago and money for the necessary gas and food to get out of the city was low or not there. Others didn't have the transportation necessary. Pre-Katrina New Orleans had a pretty good public transportation for a city of its size, and so many people didn't have cars or ways out of the city. (Both the population and the bus lines have dramatically decreased after the storm.) It was too late, Mayor Ray Nagin hesitated to call a mandatory evacuation supposedly due to fear of economic backlash or possibly even disbelief in the weather predictions. Many residents, like their mayor, didn't think that Katrina could be that bad. The older ones had survived Betsy in '56 which only caused minor wind damage and a little flooding in the ninth ward. (Of course, Betsy was not termed minor at the time, but in comparison to Katrina, now most except it as such.) And finally, some just didn't want to leave something they loved behind. I am guessing that the old man I talked to was in the latter two camps. He didn't say.

The storm was fine. The sun was out. They made it! Right? Oh, I wish. He lives near the ninth ward where instead of trickling flood waters, he got a gush which allowed him just enough time to run to the highest story of his house and watch as his neighborhood was covered with more and more water. He wisely had loaded up this top room with water, food, and other supplies so that he was able to survive alone for days. A boat finally came to get him -- a family which was also stranded it in this newly-formed vast ocean, covering their streets, schools and almost all other signs of the pre-existing city. He took about five minutes to go over all the animals that he saw -- lots of snakes and basically everything else.

He joined this family and shared his hoard of stuff. Providing protection for each other at night in a two-story apartment complex they had found (as in were borrowing to put it nicely), they used their boat (also borrowed) to rescue other victims during the day. The old man estimated that they took about 200 people from roof tops and second stories to what he called "the ferry land" with boats shuttling people to safe ground.

All the while, he is talking about losing his dentures. He took them out one night to wash them after four days of not due to lack of clean water. When he did rinse them, it was with soda and set them down. In the middle of the night, someone came with word of the last ferry leaving. He rushed out fearful of the mayhem which might occur when they send in the military and increased disillusionment of the remaining survivors. He left his teeth and when he was allowed back in to look for them weeks later, the apartment complex could not be found. Of course, he only had a general idea where it was since all the street signs were covered. But he tried. And finally asked a random waitress who mentioned that the place had burned to the ground sometime after the storm. They were gone. Eighteen months later he is telling me his story and he still had no teeth. He lives in a trailer outside his house -- probably waiting for road home money to rebuild his house and certainly hoping his street and the city will recover.

We must have been talking for almost an hour. He never really went into much detail about his life since returning to the city. But it is hard to ask some one who has no teeth and 1/10 the neighbors they had 2 years ago how they are doing when the answer is too clear.

Milton, FL to Mobile, AL - 108 Miles

2007-06-25T21:20:00.001-07:00

I really could not have asked for a better first century. Energized from a morning group huddle singing Lean on Me, the prospect of going mostly downhill (although not true), a donated HUGE Olive Garden pasta dinner the night before, finally leaving Florida after more than one week, crossing our first state line into Alabama, biking alongside the seashore for about half the ride, swimming at lunch in the Gulf, and a whole lot of adrenaline, it was (to my surprise) a great ride! I actually averaged higher in speed and cadence than any of the previous days on my trip. After 6 1/2 hours on my bike and 10 hours on the road (I take a lot of breaks), I finally made it! Maybe I can be a competent cyclist after all!?!

A More Typical Day on the Road

2007-06-25T21:03:00.000-07:00

5 am - Wake up in order to beat the heat (On long days we push this time to 4 and on build days we "sleep in" until 6)
5:15 am - Realize that I am the last in bed and proceed with the morning routine: dress, pack up, breakfast, bike check (watch me embrace safety!), stretch, pretend I am not sore from yesterday's ride, angst over the day's ride, etc.
7:30ish am - Group meeting and cheer
7:35ish am - Take off. Will my muscles to move. Scold myself for not training more prior to the trip. Wonder why I thought biking cross country was feasible. Sarcastically thank Sam, the one who suggested this whole adventure, in my head.
10 minutes late (after my muscles have loosened a bit) - Remember that I can do this. And sincerely remember Sam and my supporters for making this summer possible
60-110 miles or ride spiced up with frequent breaks such as:
---Stretch, water, and lunch breaks
---Ferry Rides
---Any possible historical monument
---Flea Market, Dollar Store, Gas Station, etc. "shopping sprees" for random stuff and a lot of food
---Waffle House or other regional and exciting restaurants. Many of us have developed the ability to eat anything on the road despite the physical labor.
---State Signs are always exciting.
---Swimming Holes or Beaches
---Funny Billboards
---Libraries with free computer access
---Cemeteries
---Orchids
---Random, overly-talkative, generally crazy people
---Anything else distracting or exciting
4 pm (or before) - Arrive at school, community center, church, camp, or whatever residence of the evening
4:01 pm - proceed directly to the shower (I tried to do abs everyday after I ride, but that only last about 2 days. Sorry Will Freeman.)
4:20 pm - Pass out from exhaustion. Pass out is really the best word. I am becoming known on my trip for my ability to sleep well anywhere. What a great, marketable skill.
6 pm ish - Wake up. Scrounge for food.
7 pm - Dinner. Eat until I am overly full.
7:45 pm - No matter how much I eat for dinner. I am always still hungry. So I start to eat again. I think I average about 4-5 PB&J per day.
8 pm - Evening routine? I don't really have one. Read, sit around and talk, eat, sometimes go out, occasionally give an affordable housing presentation, watch movies, etc.
10 pm - Go to sleep again

A little girl's dress hanging from the ceiling

2007-06-24T19:15:00.000-07:00

I am more than thankful for all our generous hosts -- churches, schools, community centers, camp grounds, etc. All of the places have been great and made me feel right at home right when I step in the door -- except for one. There was a little too much clutter, old lady curtains, ants everywhere; in short, the aura was just off. It felt like the strange setting to a bad horror flick.

A tripmate kept talking about the ghost stories of the area where we were staying which he allegedly would know about since his uncle lives nearby. Being myself, I believe every single word he says and while not very detailed, it still creeps me out a little more about where I am sleeping.

I returned home late one night from a great fish dinner to what I thought would be a room full of sleeping bikers. Instead, I find three of my room mates panicking over an old bright pink and flowerly little girl's dressing hanging from the ceiling fan. Naturally, I join in the chaos, tell everyone else I see when I go to brush my teeth, and semi-convince myself that this is all related to those ghost stories.

Still freaking out by bed time, I sleep smack against the wall and seriously consider crawling into someone else's bed for the night or sleeping in the support van outside. Luckily, I was dead asleep (as usual) before I could act on any of these genius protection plans.

I find out the next day, after wrongly blaming an innocent trip mate, that it was indeed my three room mates who placed the dress there.

Morals of the story: (1) I am so gullible and (2) life on the road is exciting.

Snakes and Gators and Road Kill ... Oh My!

2007-06-21T13:57:00.000-07:00

3 snakes, 2 Gators, and SO MUCH road kill later, I am on my 7th day of biking. (Oh, and there was one anger, barking dog which chased me half a mile down the road one of those days.) But luckily, I am still alive and mostly functional. My quads and hams are not to eager for the 100 mile day tomorrow. But then we get the day off! I mean we get a build day which is almost relaxing in comparison with the 50-60 mile days I have been pedalling on the road.

The days switch between constant monotony and excitement depending on our location. My favorite lunch break was on the Saturday before Father's day when we stumbled on a celebration in Lake City with live animals and live music plus a couple of kiddie rides on the side. Sometimes we stop for breaks at parks or historical sites. Battle fields are a personal favorite of mine. Other times we meet people along the road like the homeless man, also biking cross country, who told a long story about his biking being stolen and a crack addict giving him a new one or the lady at the orchid who gave us a sermon right then and there.

About the basics: We stay in churches, schools, community centers, or where ever else people will take us in. (One trip, although not mine, even resided in a funeral home.) If we can not find anyone, we camp which is nice in its own right. Last night was our first camping night and the "resort" had a pool which a few of us jumped in which our jerseys, spandex, and socks still on at the end of the day. As for the roads, we have been mostly on Highway 90 which is an old, more local interstate (perhaps better put as the road less travelled by). It switches between constant trucks, traffic, etc and nowhereness where you don't see a sign, driveway, or ANYTHING for miles. And we eat lots of PB&J, donated pizza, and home cooked meals. One of the greatest things about biking all day is eating all night.

And on the note, I am off to bike home from the library, shower, and of course, begin my nightly feast.

Building like the Egyptians

2007-06-14T16:11:00.000-07:00

The tables turned today. I was expected to put things together carefully and precisely as opposed to take them down. I was completely clueless about most aspects of today's work and need constant direction. And even when I insisted that we use the sledge for various tasks, I was shunned as crazy -- "no, that would break it." I briefly thought about arguing until I realized that the point is to make, not break. So, sorry Katie, the "when all else fails, use a sledge" rule must not be true in all places.

I spent the entire day on the roof or a ladder. Almost falling off only once -- which was completely my fault. The "sure, it will be fine to defy gravity for a moment and lean backwards on the already shaky ladder" logic is apparently slightly dangerous. But no worries Mom and Dad, a friend was there to grab my hand and pull the rest of my body onto the roof as someone ran to secure the ladder below me.

Today's entry name is attributed to a the man who taught me how to hammer really well (I promise, I already knew how to hammer) by making everything into a metaphor about pole vaulting, once a vaulter himself. His enthusiasm, knowledge and dedication was inspirational. And he taught my pod of three bikers who followed him around how to roof just like the Egyptians did.

Today we built; tomorrow we ride. Life is simple, and I love it.

Some final thoughts before I go

2007-06-09T23:20:00.000-07:00

I am almost finished packing and getting ready to take off for two days of relaxation at the beach, then 66 days of BIKE AND BUILD.

Things I am excited about:
(1) meeting 29 other young adults passionate about affordable housing & the Gulf Coast region and crazy enough to bike cross country in the name of this cause
(2) becoming an expert on affordable housing both through our rider curriculum and hands on/real life lessons
(3) working with local, national and global non-profits like Habitat for Humanity, EDOLA-ODR, and Rebuilding Together
(4) seeing so much of my country so closely (of the 10 states and 55 destinations, the Grand Canyon and Napa Valley are definitely my two favorite destinations)
(5) giving presentations to the communities where we stay, meeting the locals, and (hopefully) passing on my excitement for affordable housing in America
(6) perfecting some sweet shorts, glove, tee-shirt, sock, etc. tan lines
(7) writing lots of letters and postcards (if i get time, I really like snail mail)
(8) biking (since this is what i am doing the majority of the time anyway) hopefully, i won't die and my skills and endurance will sky rocket.
(9) eating A LOT (i.e. becoming more of a pig than I already am) since working out all day gives me a great excuse to inhale food all night long.
(10) meeting the people -- current or future home owners -- whom my team and I serve. Through all the community work I have done, I still believe that I learn and gain more as a volunteer then the work I attempt to give despite generally self-less intentions. My most recent (and favorite) homeowner in New Orleans schooled me (and a group of Dallas executives) on financial management and the power of women. This lady's strength and knowledge was absolutely incredible.

My computer access will probably be sketchy, at best, since there will be 30 riders fighting over 1 or 2 computers. I hope to update about once a week. But this is a trip journal which will be updated daily by different riders; it can be found at http://www.bikeandbuild.org/cms/component/option,com_wrapper/Itemid,67/

Also, a few other riders are keeping personal blogs which should also be interesting and will probably cover things that I forget to mention. These can be found at http://www.bikeandbuild.org/cms/component/option,com_wrapper/Itemid,213/

San Fran or bust, baby. I'm ready!

The best post-ride snack EVER

2007-06-09T22:46:00.000-07:00

I needed to buy bananas after one of my rides when I noticed that there are so many free samples in the super market. So, decked out in spandex, dripping in sweat, and wearing bright pink flip-flops, I wander through the produce section trying each and everyone of them. In case I don't feel sketchy enough, I notice that not one, BUT TWO, rather chubby, old men are following my footsteps doing THE EXACT SAME THING. (They, fortunately, were wearing something besides spandex.) As I got hung up at the ham station (I definitely had more than my allotted one sample), I look back and just start cracking up at one of the old men. who kindly waved his hands and told me that no one else was watching.

Mail Drops

2007-06-09T09:01:00.001-07:00

In the case that any of you wish to send me letters and/or packages, I will have nine addresses as I travel cross country. They are the following:

Jun 21^st Milton FL

General Delivery