Our last rest day in Taos seems a long time ago. I've described the trials and tribulations of pedaling across Oklahoma in earlier postings so I won't repeat them here. I would like to share a few thoughts and observations about the trip that have been new learnings for me and might be of interest to some of you.
The first is about the mental aspects of cycling across the country - yes, you have to be somewhat crazy to attempt it, but that is not the point I want to make. In contrast to long distance running, where at times the mind can almost disengage from the body, road biking takes total concentration and focus as the brain constantly processes and provides feedback to the body on real-time information regarding road conditions, traffic, nearby riders, wind, etc. As evidenced by Brett's accident, even a momentary lapse in concentration can have potentially tragic consequences. Maintaining this level of concentrated brain activity for 7 to 10 hours at a time, day-after-day, leaves little or no room in the brain for any other thoughts. This has resulted in something that was a real surprise to me - when the ride is done a sense of total calmness immediately takes over and lasts until the next day's ride. It seems that the brain's processor simply shuts off at the end of the ride and all of the thoughts that have been crowded out by the intense brain activity during the ride do not have time to seep back in before you begin the next day's ride. For me this has resulted in an almost meditative state where I have no interest in watching TV (which Jan finds very shocking) or reading. In 4 weeks I've watched only a few sporting events and the presidential debate - that's it! I wish this calmness and reduced interest in watching TV would carry-over to my post-ride life.
The second observation regards small-town rural America and its people. Since leaving California we have been pedaling through what some living on the coasts derisively call "fly-over" states. But on an even more granular level we have been pedaling down the main streets of what I call "drive-by" towns. These are small towns that can't be seen as we drive-by on the interstates and, therefore, they simply don't exist in our consciousness. We have been saddened by what we see in almost everyone of these small towns - abandoned buildings either boarded up or falling apart, junk cars, and dilapidated houses. One might think they are ghost-towns - but they are not. I am heartened when we meet the inhabitants - friendly, proud, independent, hard-working people. Whenever I get the chance, I having been trying to meet and chat with them. I could give you dozens of anecdotes, but here are a few:
The two boys(about 12 years old) who we offered cookies to while having lunch at a park in a small, run-down town in Oklahoma. As the boys walked away after reluctantly accepting the cookies, I heard one say softly to the other "It's been so long since I've had a cookie".
The farmer outside a small town in southern Missouri in whose driveway we parked the van during one of our "pit" stops. After a friendly greeting I asked him how things were going and how his crops did this year. Very matter-of-factly he looked me in the eye and said "It's been tough. This is the second year in a row that my crops have failed due to the drought and heat".
And of course there is the little stone church on Johnson Mesa in New Mexico. I didn't need to talk to anybody there - the poem on the wall of the church said it all.
There is a lot of talk about the plight of the middle-class in America - and rightly so. But, based on what we have seen on this trip so far (and I expect we'll see the same in the small towns of the Southeast) much more needs to be said about the plight of rural, small-town America. I sense we are witnessing the end of a way of life that has existed since these lands were first settled. This is probably inevitable, but it needs to be recognized and made part of our national consciousness. These are proud, independent people who don't want pity and won't ask for handouts - they will just try, like they always have, to figure out a way to get by on their own initiative and hard work - an interesting concept in 21st century America!
A few last observations on Branson. After walking around today I have not changed by initial two word impression of the town - hokey and excess. However, the mall at Branson Landing near our hotel is quite nice. And a final observation - at age 67 my presence has definitely lowered the average age of visitors to Branson.
Wish my quads well as I get back on the saddle tomorrow and attempt to pedal 103 hilly miles to West Plains.
Steve
Thank you so much for such an insightful description. I guess the best way to really see America, especially rural America, is on the bike.
ReplyDeleteI was biking on the Silver Comet Trail from Atlanta, and we exited to find some store for food. A nice fellow on an old road bike was stopped also and said hello. I could not help but notice a tube was starting to bulge out of the side of his front tire. The thought came to me how many times I have thrown thrown away bike tires I had replaced that he would have loved to have.