Tag: beer

The Vélorution

Amsterdam wasn’t just coffeeshops and bikes to me. For me, Amsterdam was where I felt like I really joined the Revolution.

This revolution – it’s not in the history books yet, but (more…)

Galway, Connemara, and Clare: more rehabilitation

When I arrived in Galway, I packed all my stuff onto the bike just so I could carry it all, even though I hadn’t installed the chain or derailleurs or pedals. I had already had a chance to hammer the wheel straight enough to pass through the fork, though. I found I could sit on the saddle and coast almost everywhere, even with a big air-cushion boot on my broken foot. (more…)

Recovery: experiencing Ireland

I crashed while coming down a hill on a desolate rural track, somewhere in the Silvermine Mountains South of Nenagh. The fifth metatarsal of my right foot fractured and broke through the skin; my bicycle frame fractured in two places and the front wheel bent like a taco. It wasn’t until I was left alone in the Accident & Emergency at Nenagh hospital that I realized what this meant. I tried to keep a positive attitude, though; positive thinking is one of the most important parts of healing, and it’s never good to mistreat the medical staff when you’re at their mercy, just because you’re feeling sorry for yourself. So sure, I shed a few tears when I was left alone. But by the time I was moved to Limerick for orthopedic surgery and moved into the trauma ward, I was sure, somehow, somewhere deep inside, that I wouldn’t be stopped by any mere broken bone and broken bicycle. (more…)

Ireland

The rain did not improve. If anything, it was more frequent in Ireland. I’m pretty used to it by now, but it’s not all that comfortable. Campsites are soaked; wet ground, wet wood. I’d get done with a day of cycling, set up camp, and all I’d want is a hot cup of tea, a sweet steaming mug to take off the chill and sooth my aching muscles… but everything is so wet that it takes me forty-five mintues to start a fire with a tea candle and a windblock. Taking breaks in the pouring rain. Wishing I could take a photograph in the rain. I rued the day I gave up my little campstove for its weight – just for that cup of tea, aah. (more…)

The TransAtlantic Greenway: Two Months without my Bike

It was your average Caribbean afternoon: bikini heat and rustling palm tree shade, crystal azure water lapping at white sand beaches, and the waves glistening and winking gaily in the sun, carried from ocean horizons as far as the eye could see.
We were leaving the island, setting sail for Europe. (more…)

Southron Energies: spending my time

SOUTH CAROLINA
In Myrtle Beach, South Carolina(a super affluent area), I was sitting outside the public library having lunch, when a grey-haired woman in running spandex stopped to talk. She asked the usual questions about my bike tour, and then asked one I’d never heard before: “How are you doing physically?” (more…)

The Road is all that matters: Moving On

VIRGINIA BEACH and CAROLINA
It was like leaving home, after eight weeks in Norfolk. I stayed up late packing, organizing, and staring groggily at internet maps. In the morning I stumbled to Fair Grounds for one last momentous cup of joe, and to meet my good friend Berry one momentous last time. I gave Diana, my barrista, a goodbye hug and gave her a collage I had made, and Berry and I took some photos for posterity. He gave me an apple, and orange, a crystal(“Bury it in the ground for three days, to attune it to yourself. You’ll know what it’s for then.”), and a copy of Khalil Gibran’s “The Prophet,” complete with an uplifting personal dedication. No rough goodbyes there; Berry’s nothing but solid.
I got all the gear together, and Cheryl helped me carry it downstairs to my awaiting steed. Nathan was asleep but I woke him up to shake his hand. I hugged Jason goodbye, but I missed saying goodbye to crazy Mark Loi, the most chauvinist feminist I’ve ever met. Must’ve taken his hangover to his army job at the crack of dawn, as usual. (more…)

DevelopMental Practice: the states I’ve been through

man on a journey
two wheels bear his spirit East
every day new
–Noah Cox, my homie in Portland.

I love Wisconsin; watershed or driftless, whitewashed or budding green; its landscapes have always felt like home. Its people – neighbors all, be they progressive and liberally raised, or traditionally bred in the red neck of the woods. Prime bicycling country. I’ve always lived in Wisconsin, and I’ve always really lived in Wisconsin. I hope to live there again some day.
But right now, I live on the road, in the woods wherever I’m found. And the states I live in – they sure aren’t Wisconsin. Not bad, just different. I’m actually glad to leave for a while; they say it’s good to see what other states have to offer. Get a new perspective.
(more…)

A New Life Begins

The world tour has begun.

No time for fear. Honesty and reality, mixed with a whittling down of that less exciting chaff that surrounds the diverse gems of travelling, be they shiny or subtle. My life is strange on the road, and though even my “every-day” experiences are unusual by former standards, I cannot write about them all. I’ve pared it down, for your sakes and mine, but still retain a record of other items of interest, to be documented as they amass. (more…)