A winter in waiting

Somehow, after three years of regular blogging and almost weekly updates – six months rolled by without a post. I firmly believe it’s better to write poorly than not to write at all… and yet I find myself hesitating, criticising, and eventually denying, any pen to pay process.

Which is a shame, since my new life in the Midwest has proved an opportunity for new thought patterns, critical attitude analysis, and some seriously profound lessons. With very few local friend outlets, I ought to have used this platorm to help sort through feelings.

That’s the way it goes with depression though… the less you do, the lower you get, and then the less you do. I’m really not familiar with depression – it sounds so severe to me. But I suppose being sad for extended periods of time counts. Maybe the language isn’t important.

There is a phenomenon here calld S.A.D. – Seasonal Affective Disorder… a.k.a Sun Absence = Depression. It is definitely real, I learnt that much. But I wouldn’t want to attribute all of my misery to a lack of sunlight and an extremely long winter. True, it did snow last week and I am growing quite tired of feeling cold, like inside bone cold, but there is a lot more to it too.

It’s moving to a new place, any new place. It’s having a partner with a broken leg that won’t seem to heal. It’s being ready for an Australian home then having to wait. It’s integrating into a new family. And each of those have such a huge range of emotions associated with them that putting them all in a line like that seems almost meaningless. The good news is that whatever the block, whatever the dark cloud… it’s clearing. People are slowly moving outside again, friendships are being formed, and I’m gradually learning old lessons about attitude ownership, personal power, individual freedom in relationships.

I still want more from Charlie that he can give me right now, I am still building up trust with his family, and I’m still searching for my mission here in Madison, but the sun has thawed the icy lakes, and maybe the ice in me too. Things are flowing once more. At least i”m writing again. At least i’m touring again. Yep: I am writing this from the road.

Just a little loop – Madison-Chicago-Milwaukee-Madison…  just enough. Bike touring ‘courage’ seems so hard won, and so easily lost – but after a 90 mile day yesterday, in good time and with a smile, I remember -  I can still do it. Tomorrow i’ll bike into Madison, along the same route I took in June. Then, I was introducing myself to Charlie’s town… this time I’ll be coming home. My home.

Read Full Post »

Courage: n.

Most of our dictionaries will tell us “courage” is the ability to control (or conquer) fear. I’m often cited for being ‘courageous’ while out touring, hitchhiking, or traveling as a solo female… and yet: none of those exploits instill much fear in me. A little anxiety certainly, a healthy dose of anticipation, and perhaps a touch too much excitement, but fear? No, the open road speaks to me of possibilities, of adventure, of freedom. Societies initial ‘impending doom’ scenario is soon superseded with the reality of universal care, and though we may walk out the door in fear, soon the sky opens, the road widens, and your oyster tastes sweet.

If we have an understanding of what to expect, of our tools and our surroundings, then we are much less likely to be gripped by fear and therefore less likely to be feeling Brave. An outsider, who has never ridden a loaded bicycle on a deserted road, undoubtedly encounters uncertainty, insecurity and fear at the mere mention of it. But to the rider, who has become accustomed to life at a 15mph pace, and who has a map of all the waterholes, it has become a grand expedition, a soul-building, freedom filled experience. Our amount of courage is in direct proportion to our depth of fear.

So, I think it’s safe to say that while ‘out there’ on the highways and byways of the world, I’m not being very courageous. That’s not to say I’m not a courageous person. On the contrary, I like to think of myself as being very brave and bold. In fact, I just moved into a small house in a Midwest town knee deep in snow, with my lover (short one fully functioning leg) and his mother – with the somewhat delusional intention of ‘settling down’. If that doesn’t take courage, I don’t know what does! After three years of constant movement, and a childhood built on sporadic upheaval – being in one place with four walls and a roof, and looking for a job – well, it’s a little scary. Add to that a body and mind that don’t know of weather below 10 degrees Celsius, and you’ve got yourself some serious fear.

We congratulate our explorers on their bravery and we question our comrades who stay at home, but you may not have to rage the flood, or roam the field or climb the mountains crest – for a little bit of courage, just add fear.

Read Full Post »

Many Miles, Trillions of Thank You’s.

This is a long list. Let it stand as an answer to the question I’m so often asked: “Did you run into any trouble?” The road will always provide, and people always seem to be there when you need them most. Thank you so so much, from the core of my being, for all of your love, help, and selflessness – I couldn’t have cycled a continent without you.

For their hospitality, a vital ingredient:

• Recycle-a-Bicycle – Dan and Patrick – for having Juno and making her into the best bike she could be!
• Brad in NYC for a comfy couch
• James in Nyack, for a warm shower when it was truly needed, and an even warmer welcome in Vancouver.
• Albany Abe and his vegan baking housemate Ashley
• Chris and Emma in Ithaca for taking me in off the street and for all the Bike/Madison geeking.
• Marvin in Ithaca for a delicious meal and a happy roof
• Joe in Ithaca for the vegan carrot cake!
• To all at Plankton in Buffalo for showing me the beauty of a depressed city.
• Steve in Niagara
• Ruben and family in Hamilton
• All at the S.H.A.H for just existing so awesomely
• Jackie and Tom in Ontario for giving 2 strangers everything they could need, and for hunting with a bow and arrow!
• Troy, Dayna and Porter in Sarnia.
• Handsome Mike and Pickleball Sally for restoring faith in Michigan
• Scott in Grand Rapids for the beer, the laughs, the couch
• Nathaniel and Sean in Milwaukee
• Doug in Chicago for a last minute couch and a long lasting story
• Pam, for more than I could say. For the first home in a long time, for the mothering and the friendship
• Johanna and Raven for all the knowledge and lightness
• Charley III for loving me already and for the photography inspiration
• Jim and Maxine for the house, the interview, the garden
• Megan in Winona
• Everyone at the Crockhouse, especially Will and Alicia for so much space to recuperate, and for all the laughs.
• To the family on the Missippi who took us in – I lost Luke’s address and feel terrible! Please send it to me again!?
• Gerardo in Fargo for taking us in at the last minute and being super chill
• Kate and Lisa in Minot
• Tracey and Donovan in Poplar for proving there are good people even in “StabCity”
• The two hikers who gave us their camping spot in Glacier
• Tyson in Bonner’s Ferry for the lawn
• Dollores and Jack Fountain in Locke for being grandparents for a night and all the lost stories
• The Bicycle Camping Barn for existing and the couple I interviewed there for their energy (please contact me!)
• To Beth, Guisepi’s mother, for being the end I so needed, for the great conversations and delicious meals.

For the Company and Love:

• Jon in Albany for being my first bad-ass bike company
• Jon Watts the Quaker for inspiring in so many different ways, for the love, the bikes, the faith
• Leon for being the best Irishman ever, and providing motivation to pedal on - then, now, always.
• Lalo and Emily in Toronto for living and breathing wanderlust
• The Madison Bicycle Caravan who I met on the bike path for spreading such joy
• Alan for picking mulberries and for a day’s company
• Paul for all the High-line Bicycle Gang laughs and staying true to his dreams
• Stephanie for being another solo rider with zest, and humbly living dreams
• Oak for inspiring and pushing me when I most needed it, and for being the damn coolest bike brother ever. Oh and for the morning wake up songs.
• Kristy- my moldy sweat back sister – for just being so fucking awesome, for riding her bike and pushing herself
• Matt for the laughs and the best bike gang ever
• Reinhard for being so well-rounded, sensible and silly
• Christian and Caleb for sharing stories and creating that special day in the park
• The 3 dutch guys, Han, Hans and Robert for living their 30yr old dream and for the ice-cream!

For help on the Road:

• The lovely co-op worker in Milwaukee who bought me free food, just because
• Day, for her welcoming postcard and unwavering love and concern
• Derek and Machinery Row for the bike work and free stuff
• John Statz for the incredible music
• Tim in Wisconsin who rescued me when I needed to be rescued
• Noel, for riding a long way and for the honest chat
• The three cyclists in West Salem for the pizza and reminding me to follow my heart, not my ego
• Josh Ritter and Management for the free ticket and amazing show!
• Jay in Devil’s Lake for the swim and best buffet meal ever
• All at the Fargo Bike Co-op for their admirable energy

For Lightfoot:

• To Amanda in NYC for encouragment and documentation
• Emma for writing and supporting
• Dan for the “Sketch” box and actively participating
• Angel for instantly dropping and writing a letter – spontaneous instant participation!
• George, who wrote just to write, and brightened my mailbox
• John and Mother Fools Coffee House for such energetic support and the box space
• The Crockhouse for the box and being in on the project
• All those lovelies who wrote/shared/delivered – thanks for the ACTION – it’s the only way to change the world!

And finally – special heartfelt thanks to my steadfast support crew, who’s thought and words echo through every mile, and who will always allow me to be myself, be strong and to be true:

• Charlie
• Mum
• Ella
• Ange
• Rosie

Read Full Post »

I am here. Now.

Juno’s kickstand rests in the sand, her dusty handlebars (once pink) grinning to the setting sun. My musky shoes (once pink) rest next to her, socks strewn near by.  I take a deep breath, dive, swim, break the surface. My skin is salty sweat, my tears are salty droplets, and this water, this sweet water, is salty too. Im back in the Pacific.

There’s a sign, there’s a sign! SO close!

Smell that? feel it? Salt!

Hell yeah I’m tired. Hell yeah I’m happy.

And I get two nights rest in a teepee? Life is grand!

Read Full Post »

Gorgeous Glaciers

“I am in love with Montana. For other states I have admiration, respect, recognition, even some affection, but with Montana it is love.” Steinbeck

The Blue Sky State

Ive long had a love for the idea of Montana. Not really knowing why, except Steinbeck’s passion, and “A river runs through it” to spur it on, throughout this cross country ride I’ve been looking forward to the Big Sky State.

It hasn’t disappointed! There are so many stories I want to recount, lots of photos I want to upload.. but for now… in this Montana Library, let me just speak of Glacier National Park.

I first heard about it from Brad, a sailing friend, who made me promise not to miss it. I checked my route, and decided to head north – to bypass Yellowstone, and check out Glacier instead. This was not a mistake. The last three days have been spent with amazing cyclist friends, climbing up and down huge passes and smiling, crying, laughing in awe at the beauty surrounding us.

Paul (who I first met in Minnesota, and later caught up to in Chester, MT), Matt (WI-Argentina) and I left the prairies behind and headed into the hills. We all expected rolling hills, a few climbs maybe, and then the infamous “Going to the Sun road”. Instead, in 20 miles we climbed almost 4000ft, up and down up and down, through switchbacks and 3 times reaching above 5000ft. This was just the warm-up! The final decent to St Mary’s, at the beginning of the Sun Road, was a straight 1500ft drop, in just 5 miles. I couldn’t tell if the tears were from the wind or from the soul. The beauty, the lakes, the mountains… maybe it was all that time in the Prairies… just moved me to my core.

We took a day off and let the clouds clear. Finally, waking up to a perfect blue sky, we straddled our saddles and got started. At 7 in the morning it was chilly, but after just a mile of slight climbing, we were peeling off the layers and gearing down. Up and up and up we went. Stopping frequently for photos – trying desperately to capture the uncapturable – and laughing our way to the top. It was just jaw-droppingly stunning, thats all I can say about it. The climb wasn’t even that bad – compared to my Slovenian Alps Pass last year, this was nothing! Much higher, but maybe less steep… or maybe my body is just stronger. I felt great! I rode the whole thing in my Middle chain ring (a 44), not once clicking into the tiny 28 Granny gear I had been saving just for this occasion. Nice!

And of course the downhill free ride was as mind boggling as ever… down and down and down, huge cliff faces on every side… snow on the ground (thats how high we pedaled!) and glaciers across ever vista. Spectacular!!!!! We jumped in a glacial river at the bottom and swam in freezing water, our footsteps light with the magic of the day.

The most incredible day of this trip, across the Continental Divide, and the beginning of the end. I felt so alive, so in love, so in tune. THIS is why we ride. Only the bicycle can facilitate this feeling, only the bike has access to this magic. Pedal on, always pedal on. Thank you Montana!

The Blue Sky State

Magic was just whispered in the air…

This is easily the happiest day of my trip.

With a glacial-river swim at the end eh!?

Time to rug up!

And now a looooong passage down. With even better views!

Yep, we know it.

Im pretty sure we’re awesome.

This is our ‘climbing high five’

Reinhart, the sweetest-coolest-doctor-bikeriding-german-norwegian EVER!

It just doesn’t get much better!

This is what makes me happy. Yay bikes.

Ah serenity.

The gang close to the top. Laughed the whole way up!

Still plenty more climb left!

Spectacular non? The mountains I mean, not me :)

Are we having fun or what!?

Meet you at the top!

Ready crew?

Up early for the big climb

The bike gang is expanding! Two west coast boys – Christian and Caleb and Reinhard, all so so so lovely!

A 5mile ride to the next camp. With weather like this – let’s take a day off!

All camps were full, but with the combination of a lot of beautiful people, we made it work, and got a free tent site!

After all that climbing… we’re only at the beginning!

Woh and so does the downhill! With a view like that! Happiest moment ever!

Man this climbing makes me happy!

Paul cruising down

The Flaming Wheels bike gang!

Its the 100yr celebration of Glacier National Park, so lots of old cars!

Read Full Post »

Flaming Wheels High-Line Bicycle Gang

Yep, that’s us. We’ve got attitude, we’ve got muscles, we’ve even got tattoos. We’re the Flaming Wheels High Line Bicycle Gang. **

From Left – Matt, Kristy and Oak. Matt is riding Wisconsin – Argentina.

One of the MANY meth signs/ads. My favourite was “Don’t Meth with it”.

Bumped back into Paul, who I rode with for a day in Minnesota… and he was in tow with Matt.

A spoke repair.

No need to unpack the tents when you’ve got a lush shelter!

Notice how happy I am lately?! Go bike gangs!

After a LONG desert, finally an organic/natural food store. With SOY milk!

Still really happy!

A beautiful campsite overlooking the Louis and Clark trail.

mmmm but not so happy tonight.

Tattoo’s! Now it’s official!

Kristy leaving us for a few days

**not to be confused with my other bicycle gang – Papillion Power.

Read Full Post »

A century or more…

My beeping phone goes off at around 6.30. I let it snooze a few times until finally the short fitful sleeps are worse than just getting up. The only way to rouse myself now is to let the air out of my mattress. Phhhhhhsssssssweeww. Ok, now I’m awake, this just isn’t comfortable. Around 7am I pack up camp, have breakfast and start thinking about the road ahead. I’m anxious to get the day underway, feeling strong and ready for a big ride.

Everything loaded, I hit the road. Now my muscles feel weak. My legs aren’t working properly, I feel like i’m pushing harder than usual and not getting anywhere. I check the trees for signs of blowing wind… nothing too bad. I glance at my tires every few minutes… they must be low on air. I even stop my momentum, lean over and check both. Nope, all fine. Now my chain is making a little more noise than usual – maybe I just need to oil it? This happens every morning, and I should know by now… it’s just early.

I pedal about 10 miles, until the nearest petrol stations or water stop. They’re hard miles though, and I’m doubting I’ll really push out 100 today.  I’ll usually buy a coffee or hot chocolate, at a $1.06 you can’t go wrong. I fill it up in my huge plastic cup (their’s is always styrofoam!) and do some stretches while I snack on more food. Ok, gotta keep going.

Until about the 50 mile mark, I feel pretty low on energy and not sure I can pull this off. I’ll stop every 15 or so, munching at every opportunity, whatever I can find in my bike bags… sugar, sugar, sugar, fruit, peanut butter…

I’ll stop for a big break around 60miles down the road. Never have a long stop on the wrong side of halfway! My legs are well-warmed up now, and I’m actually feeling pretty good. Life is great on a bike isn’t it? Just ride ride, stop, eat, ride ride. Chatting to local folk and getting past the first familiar few questions is fun, and I love reading the people here in middle America. Most tap their beer-gut and say “ooo, I could never do something like that, ho ho ho”. Of course I’m quick to tell them “oh sure you could! Just gotta start small!”

A quick few stretches before heading out again – my muscles are definitely feeling it. Now i’m doing 20mile blocks… either because I can go faster, or there’s just nothing out here. No shade, no water, no reason to rest. I keep reapplying sunscreen, but the sun out here is brutal. From 60-80 I start feeling pretty tired. Still another 40 to go? I try to look ahead, to see it as just two chunks, 20 and 20. Take a sip of water – It’s turned to tea already. Pedal, pedal, pedal. I’m almost wishing there was more traffic – every truck breaks the headwind and gives me a little tail push. I daydream a lot… using fantasy to push me through. Imagine buying and owning my own little sail boat… pushing off from the dock and raising her canvas. Or of re-united with old lovers and being around familiar faces. Mostly it’s about arriving. Just gotta make it to the coast. Water sweet water.

Wow, made it 80 miles. I stumble to the nearest shade, my knees are creaking and my thigh muscles pounding. Guzzle more water. Just a quick stop – gotta get back on the road.

These last 20 are just bliss. I know it’s my last leg, and that i’ll ride another century today. I’m proud of myself, and find it easy to boost my ego. My muscles are so well-warmed they are just powering up the hills and through the miles. My knees are aching a little, and I have to readjust my hands and ass constantly, every bit is well-worn and a little bruised. The sun is starting to come down though, and the fields take on a beautiful glow. Traffic has thinned, the shoulder is wide. I feel like Juno and I are one entity, well oiled and well used, made to ride together.

I normally end up pushing out another 6 miles or so, make it to a water stop, and smile at the day gone by. Passers by pull up in their cars and say “Too hot to ride today!”… or “Is it really fun in this heat?” Fun?! Hell yeah! Every day I can ride is a gift! Maybe if we all rode our bikes, it wouldn’t be getting so hot? Mostly I just grin, and munch on my musli bar.

My tent is up before sundown, I’m curled inside my sleeping bag writing in my journal and looking at the map. Every muscle aches, but the sweetness of lying down and falling into a deep slumber is indescribable. It’s what keeps me getting up and doing it again. 100 miles.

Read Full Post »

Miles and Miles

Wow. I’m in Fargo! Actually, as I write this I’m back in Minnesota, since my host lives on this side of the boarder. But yesterday I definitely pedaled past a sign that read “North Dakota”. And just 3 days after leaving Minneapolis.

When I set out from New York City, I knew I wanted to ride out alone, to set off alone and make it my own journey. I was hoping though for some happy faces along the way, keen and spontaneous enough to join me on my rambles for a few days, maybe a week, at a time. So far I couldn’t have been luckier – I easily persuaded Jon in Albany to ride a few days… though he had never toured before he powered up hills and rode 60miles a day in some of the hardest terrain I’ve come across yet.

Then I bumped into other cyclists, first Jon the Quaker, then Leon the Irishmen… and both gave me a lot to ride for. It was solo again then for a little while, except Allen for a day in Wisconsin, and Paul for another, in Minnesota. It has really kept my spirits up, not only providing good company, but some serious inspiration in lots of different areas.

In Minneapolis I was at a cross-roads. I didn’t know whether I had the energy to pedal the rest, and seriously considered giving up on the ‘coast to coast’, hitching the in-betweens. Meeting Oak was the perfect motivator. He had bought a bike and was ready to roll on, back home, to Alberta Canada. We clicked straight away and I knew it would be fun riding. He was also brand new to touring though, and I wondered how many miles we could put in a day. I remembered back to my first few pedal strokes, fully loaded, when I only made it 30kms, let alone 30miles. Appreciating the slow life though, I resigned myself to it, and let it flow.

It took us 3 days to ride 250miles. With a heavy rickety trailer, a pretty squeaky bike, and new pedaling legs, Oak cycled 80 miles the first day, then another 80, then a whopping 90 miles on the third. I’ve never ridden 90 miles in a day before! It was hugely exhilarating and so rewarding – and though it definitely tired us out, it certainly didn’t break us – and for that I’m proud

We road down “Old highway 52″ and once the rolling hills flattened out, we hit the prairies I had been imagining. Yesterday a still day, no wind (!!), empty roads and dilapidated train-tracks and rail-towns the only respite from the monotonous landscape.

In New York State people would often say to me “wow, you rode all the way from there!?” even if ‘there’ was only 5 miles away. Now, when towns are few and far between, a woman told me “Oh, it’s really just down the road, just down there”… this time ‘there’ was 10miles away. Perspectives have changed with the terrain, but I continue to find inspiration in the people… pedal-powering me on.

We met a guy on a bike, who offered us his lawn… we didn’t realise it would be a mansion ON the mississippi!

Oak

Sweeeet! A dip in the Mississippi after a long ride, nice!

Another 80 mile day… lets call this home. Right by a bike path!

North Dakota, just over the horizon…

Read Full Post »

Gear

Fully Loaded

So most bike tourers seem to have a pretty little photo with all their gear, and a list of stuff they carry. I’ve never done it, but today, with my stuff scattered all over the floor, I thought it was about time. Yep, i’m fully loaded – but remember it’s everything I own in the world (bar a box of books at mum’s!)…

Fully Loaded

A sailing and cycling necessity – Zip lock bags!

My food, this varries a lot, but here are the staples – trail mix, granola, peanut butter, tea, soy milk

Two front Panniers, Rear panniers, and a camel back Backpack (3L water)

Specials! Passport, Wallet, Poi, Mum and Sister gifts…

Utencils, saucepan, spoon, fork, mug, and stove in that crinkled bag.

Bike tools – spare tubes, pump, patch kit, wrench for my brooks, lights, allen keys, multi tool, lube, lights, compass.

Eeeek, here’s the heavy stuff. Video Camera, the blank space is for my Photo camera, tripod, spare batteries, chargers, tapes etc..

Toiletries.. sunscreen, soap, deodorant, small First aid, vitamins, tooth brush/paste…

Clothes. wheow, that’s a lot eh? Cool gear, Warm gear, Rain gear, City pretty gear :)

Two pairs of shoes..

Heavy but must haves – letter writing supplies. And two small books (switch them up) my “bible”/world atlas, few maps

From left to right, Sleeping bag (down), 1 person tent (has been known to fit 2), and blow up mattress (so comfy!).

Read Full Post »

Madtown and Mothers

I woke up in Chicago on a Tuesday. “Shit. Today’s Tuesday”. I had told Pamela, Charlie’s mum, that I’d be rolling into Madison today. I sent out a quick email, re-set the date for Friday and hoped I hadn’t just blown my chance to ‘impress the parents’.

Pedaling in from Milwaukee was a pleasant ride, rails-to-trails almost the whole way. It made for pretty boring landscape though, just an endless tunnel of trees, perfectly flat, perfectly unremarkable. Still, I overnighted by a beautiful lake, just 30miles out, and it was a clear blue sky that opened itself to me as I cycled in the next day, around 8am. Birds chirped, chipmunks ducked, and rabbits bounced as I meandered along the smooth bike-path leading straight downtown.

My friends had taken to calling Madison “the promised land”, which might give you an idea of how much I anticipated my arrival here. I had dreams of endless crisscrossing bike paths, roads with narrow lanes for cars and twice as wide brightly painted shoulders for cyclists… two wheeled machines piled into the myriad of bike racks, and every spare post, pole, table leg, used to secure a bicycle. Ideas of vegan bakeries on every corner and homegrown hippies jamming next to community gardens. Basically, I saw Madison as a vegan-tourers mecca.

And I wasn’t far off! This place is magic. Within three blocks of where I’m staying is a local diner, a printing co-op, a huge food co-op, an organic local bakery, a vegan coffeehouse, a fair-trade coffee roasting non-profit, an info-shop for all your anarchist information, and a huge local bike shop in a CASTLE! That’s just this one street. Damn! And yep – bikes everywhere!

I found 417 s. Dickinson St pretty easily, it’s just one block away from the “Bicycle Boulevard”. The address had served as my postal point for several months, so was well etched into my mind. Rolling up to it, I noticed Charlie’s ‘World Bike Tour’ flag on the porch and chocked up a little. I prepared myself for two weeks of Charlie memories, Charlie stories, Charlie photos… and wondered how comfortable I would feel in his house, with his mum, and his cat. The back door wasn’t left open, as Pam had promised, so I sat under the pear tree and relaxed the afternoon away. It wasn’t until I’d done a tour of the town, had a tea, said hi to the bike boys, and returned back to the house – that I realised today wasn’t Friday at all… it was Thursday. Shit.

So by now I’m definitely looking like the most disorganised, ditsy, daughter in law ever to have existed – the only consolidation coming from the realisation that I’m truly in the bike touring ‘time doesn’t exist’ mindset. Thankfully it’s a warm hug and a smile anyway when Pam get’s home, and it’s not long before I’m feeling settled and welcome. A pile of packages greets me too… thank you all SO much for the love – the words are all worth their weight in gold. I even got a “welcome to Madison” postcard from Charlie’s mate Day, who became a great ambassador and friend.

Now it’s been almost a fortnight and I feel like one of the family. The motherly love I’ve been given could never be described in print… every need has been met, every part of my body/mind/spirit re-energised for the rest of the road ahead, from repaired shoes to repaired soul. I got to make a trip out to Johanna’s (sister) farm and picked up pieces of info on native herbs, what to eat and what not to eat, while listening to the soothing creek running through the beautiful ‘drift-less’ region. Juno has had it good too – Charlie’s old bike buddy Derek tuned her, lubed her and loved her, and she’s never felt stealthier.

I got a chance to set up a new Lightfoot Sustainable Post box (Madison would be lost without one!) at Mother Fools, the vegan coffee house. John, one of the owners, has been so enthusiastic and into the project, I can already see the letters flying in.

Lightfoot Box Madison!

And now it’s time to pedal out. I’ve had a 23rd birthday, rested and recuperated, and am ready for the Bicycle Film Festival and Josh Ritter gig in Minneapolis. As itchy as I am for the open road, it’s going to be a hard town to leave. In a lot of ways I feel closer to Charlie here, his history and memories is in a lot of the landscape. It’s a reminder too though of the distance between us, and I’m looking forward to centering myself again, to becoming more present. Hopefully this time I can keep track of the days though! Adios!

Alan, a fellow bike tourer i met on the trail. Picking mulberries!

My camp before Madison. Right off the bike trail, and by a lake!

Yep, i’m happy! Almost there!

But a little tired too!

Breakfast preperation

Ready to eat!

Charlie’s sister, Johanna, is a herbalist… yummy cammomile!

A hot humid day in the garden

Johanna and Raven sorting the weeds from the weeds

Charlie on the fridge

waiting for someone?

Heading out… bye home.

Plenty more corn. Its growing with me as I ride west!

Charley THREE, the dad! An amazing photographer.

Jim built AND designed this house, a Frank Lloyd Wright architect.

Solar warming

Charley Dad at work

Unloaded again for a couple of days

I met the Social Forum Bicycle Carivan (going from Madison to Detroit) on the trail... and they wrote me letters to deliver!

Drop and write! Lightfoot in action!

And some photo’s from Charley III:

A photo of a photo, muckin' around with Charley

An awesome interview with Jim. He and Maxine did a bike tour in 1950 on a 3 speed!

Hitting the road again. There is a photo of Charlie fully loaded, leaving from this exact spot. Weird.

Read Full Post »