Tag: bicycle touring

Hozho

The first hints of bloom are creeping into the eastern sky as we pedal east out of Kayenta in the morning. A warm blush washes across the desert around us, revealing stunning beauty, seeping into my heart and soul, pushing strength and energy into my body.

The mountains and rocks here have been washed by oceans and chiseled by winds over the eons. As dawn along the horizon spreads brilliant red across the eastern sky, the red sand and rock around us is transformed into a deep red…

[fullwidth backgroundcolor=”” backgroundimage=”” backgroundrepeat=”no-repeat” backgroundposition=”left top” backgroundattachment=”scroll” video_webm=”” video_mp4=”” video_ogv=”” video_preview_image=”” overlay_color=”” overlay_opacity=”0.5″ video_mute=”yes” video_loop=”yes” fade=”no” bordersize=”0px” bordercolor=”” borderstyle=”” paddingtop=”20px” paddingbottom=”20px” paddingleft=”0px” paddingright=”0px” menu_anchor=”” equal_height_columns=”no” hundred_percent=”no” class=”” id=””][two_third last=”no” spacing=”no” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” padding=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]Day 13 – Kayenta, Arizona to Towaoc, Colorado

The first hints of bloom are creeping into the eastern sky as we pedal east out of Kayenta in the morning. A warm blush washes across the desert around us, revealing stunning beauty, seeping into my heart and soul, pushing strength and energy into my body.

The mountains and rocks here have been washed by oceans and chiseled by winds over the eons. As dawn along the horizon spreads brilliant red across the eastern sky, the red sand and rock around us is transformed into a deep red mystical world punctuated by the quiet of the empty road. I can’t imagine a human looking across this desert in this light and not thinking of it as sacred.

How many places on earth can offer a sunrise this stunning? Riding east into the rising sun, floating through the desert lavishness around me, my legs fill with endless energy. I keep slowing myself down, knowing that we’ve got over 100 miles to ride today. The magic of this place percolates into my body and soul, wrapping me in a spiritual high. The line between physical and spiritual blurs: the physical rising and falling with the spiritual like a small boat on a tide, the spiritual breathing life into the physical. When the breath of the spiritual subsides, the strength and vigor of the physical wanes.

Hozho.

I feel like a racehorse crashing out of the gates, bent on gulping every moment the world has in front of me right now.

Life is good.[/fusion_text][/two_third][one_third last=”yes” spacing=”no” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” padding=”25px” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”none” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”” linktarget=”_self” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”50″ bottom_margin=”10″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

“Take a breath of the new dawn and make it a part of you.”
~Hopi Proverb

[/fusion_text][/one_third][/fullwidth][fullwidth backgroundcolor=”” backgroundimage=”” backgroundrepeat=”no-repeat” backgroundposition=”left top” backgroundattachment=”scroll” video_webm=”” video_mp4=”” video_ogv=”” video_preview_image=”” overlay_color=”” overlay_opacity=”0.5″ video_mute=”yes” video_loop=”yes” fade=”no” bordersize=”0px” bordercolor=”” borderstyle=”” paddingtop=”20px” paddingbottom=”20px” paddingleft=”0px” paddingright=”0px” menu_anchor=”” equal_height_columns=”no” hundred_percent=”no” class=”” id=””][one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”http://www.amazon.com/Pilgrim-Wheels-Reflections-Cyclist-Crossing/dp/0982639120/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1425163739&sr=1-1″ linktarget=”_blank” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

Pilgrim Wheels Excerpts

This post is part of a series of posts, representing excerpts from Pilgrim Wheels, a story of a cycling journey across America. Pilgrim Wheels was released on March 1, 2015. We’re honored and grateful for the awards the book is receiving, including the following:

  • 2015 National Indie Excellence Awards – 1st Place
  • Great Southwest Book Festival – 2nd Place
  • LA Book Festival – Honorable Mention
  • San Francisco Book Festival – Honorable Mention

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Solitude Lost, Friendship Found

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“Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom”
~Marcel Proust

[/fusion_text][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”10″ bottom_margin=”200″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”no” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”center” link=”https://neilhanson.com/pilgrim-wheels” linktarget=”_self” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”20″ bottom_margin=”20″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]Making my way to a Village Inn on the east side of Flagstaff where we’ve agreed to meet, I enjoy breakfast while waiting for Dave to arrive. The nature of my trip will change this morning from a journey of solitude to a shared journey with a good friend. While the solitude of the trip so far has been a sublime experience, I’m almost giddy with anticipation to see my good friend, and be able to share the joys of this trip with him.

Dave orders breakfast when he arrives, and we relax in the booth while he describes a young fellow on a bicycle he passed along the interstate this morning. The guy was riding a heavy duty touring bike loaded to the gills with anything he might need to survive out in the wilderness. While Dave and I carry well under 20 pounds of gear apiece, he figures this guy’s gear had to weigh in at something north of 75 pounds.

This immediately opens up great breakfast conversation between us about the contrast between our minimalist style, and the more common fully loaded style of touring. It also opens up good discussion about the pros and cons of riding on different types of roads. It’s a conversation we’ve wandered through many times, exploring the difference in our points of view on the subject. While Dave likes a quiet road more, he generally will argue for using an interstate highway when possible and legal. The shoulder is massive, allowing you to keep a good distance between you and the traffic. They’re generally straight without steep climbs. They’re efficient. He makes a strong argument for that point of view. From my perspective, I’ll give up efficiency if it helps me avoid the traffic noise, the fumes, and all the glass, metal and other crap that litters the shoulder. If I have 500 square feet of space, would I rather pour a concrete slab, or plant a garden? Concrete is more efficient, takes less care, and is cheaper in the long run. The garden brings beauty to the space, and joy that can nourish the soul. It’s a balance that requires an understanding of where the space is, who’ll use it, and for what. We all bring our own bias to the balance, some of us leaning toward heartless efficiency, some of us leaning toward oblivious joy. Not that Dave or I are either heartless or oblivious. I lean a little toward the heart, Dave leans a little toward the mind, and we keep each other in balance.

It’s metaphoric discussion territory for us, and we both smile as our banter falls so quickly into the space we enjoy with each other. Efficiency on the one hand, joy on the other, and finding the right balance of the two.

The road headed north out of Flagstaff is two lanes in each direction with a great shoulder. While it’s fairly busy, it’s not nearly as busy as the interstate. A gentle climb takes us up into wonderful Ponderosa Pine country that reminds me of home in Colorado. At a couple points, I catch the smell of elk. It’s pretty strong in one spot, so I stop and scan the Ponderosa upwind of me. A couple hundred yards up the hill, a small group of them rests on the edge of dark timber, the sight bringing a homey feeling to my heart.

Back in the saddle and pedaling up the hill, the road crests at about 7500 feet, followed by a long and gentle drop out of the higher altitude with pines and shrub, and back into the high desert of northern Arizona. I enjoy the long descent sitting up high in the saddle, hands off the handlebars.

After lunch in Cameron at a spot that can only be described as a monument to tourist traps, we saddle up and continue north on 89. The traffic is heavy, and we’re now down to two lanes with a marginal shoulder. About 20 miles north of Cameron we turn right on US 160, which will be our highway from here through most of Kansas on our journey east.

For the next three days, we’ll be crossing the land of the Navaho, Hopi, and Ute. Rust-colored desert and bright red rocks sculpted into magical shapes create an otherworldly landscape around us. It’s breathtaking at times. I can’t imagine moving through this place and not feeling magic all around. How many places like this can there be on earth?

We’re dodging more debris and glass on the shoulder, and this seems to be getting worse the deeper we move into Reservation lands. Why is this? Does the state highway budget not include maintenance of this highway because it passes through reservation land? I find it hard to believe that as the highway crosses the border into the Reservation, the drivers suddenly start throwing more stuff out their windows. After all, it’s clear that the vast majority of the traffic along the road is “passing through” –- the same traffic that was on the highway before it entered reservation land.

In my lifetime, I’ve experienced the beginning of an epic transformation in our cultural ethic on how we treat our environment. When I was a very young boy, it was common and widely accepted to throw trash out of the car window. When we were out fishing, my dad and uncle would leave their beer cans out in the lake. My uncle was a forestry officer, having what at the time was probably an elevated ethic on land use. He insisted they fill the empty cans with water so they’d sink rather than float.

In the short years of my youth, the environment ethic of our culture began a transformation. By the time I was a teenager, it was no longer acceptable to throw trash out of the car window. We began to admire those whose behavior protected and nurtured the world around us, and to eschew those whose behavior was destructive to the world around us. It wasn’t a complete transformation, and some areas changed more quickly than others.

Hitchhiking in Georgia back in the mid-seventies, when this transformation was well underway in most of the country, I glimpsed a corner of the culture that wasn’t ready to change yet. My friend Scott Stuckey and I caught a ride with the perfect stereotype of the southern redneck. After several miles, he threw his empty beer bottle out his window to crash on the pavement. He must have seen the surprise on our faces, because he commented about “giving those government leeches something to do”.

That image has always hung with me. It’s one of those moments that just doesn’t fit well into the way I see the world. Considering the rest of what came out of the guy’s mouth, you’d think he loved the place where he lived. Yet, he felt perfectly justified in damaging the wonder he said he liked, and he justified it in his mind with the assumption that someone should be coming along behind him to clean up his mess.

I recall that long-ago incident as I negotiate around the glass and debris, wondering how we get to the point where it’s okay in our mind to leave a mess for someone else to clean up. Maybe we all do it in our own little ways, and some are more destructive than others. From the coworker who leaves her dirty dishes in the common kitchen sink all day, to big oil companies who destroy entire ecosystems, are we all guilty of some level of transgression?

I suppose big cultural transformations take time.

Treat the earth well, it was not given to you by your parents, it was loaned to you by your children.

~ Native American Proverb (Also one translation of “Hozho”)

Tuba City is a little Navaho town in northern Arizona, right at the edge of the Hopi Tribe. Dave and I pull up to the Moenkopi Legacy Inn, and check in to an excellent room. We easily settle in to the routine we developed last summer when we toured together: unpacking, showering, doing laundry in the sink, hanging clothes to dry, and walking to a relaxing supper.

Ahhhh. The comfort of a familiar routine out in the desert of unfamiliar exploration. Dark chocolate for the soul.[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][fullwidth backgroundcolor=”” backgroundimage=”” backgroundrepeat=”no-repeat” backgroundposition=”left top” backgroundattachment=”scroll” video_webm=”” video_mp4=”” video_ogv=”” video_preview_image=”” overlay_color=”” overlay_opacity=”0.5″ video_mute=”yes” video_loop=”yes” fade=”no” bordersize=”0px” bordercolor=”” borderstyle=”” paddingtop=”20px” paddingbottom=”20px” paddingleft=”0px” paddingright=”0px” menu_anchor=”” equal_height_columns=”no” hundred_percent=”no” class=”” id=””][one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”http://www.amazon.com/Pilgrim-Wheels-Reflections-Cyclist-Crossing/dp/0982639120/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1425163739&sr=1-1″ linktarget=”_blank” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

Pilgrim Wheels Excerpts

This post is part of a series of posts, representing excerpts from Pilgrim Wheels, a story of a cycling journey across America. Pilgrim Wheels was released on March 1, 2015. Before it’s release date, it had already won the following awards:

  • Great Southwest Book Festival – 2nd Place – General Non-Fiction
  • LA Book Festival – Honorable Mention – General Non-Fiction

[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][/fullwidth]

Final Handshake

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“There is a voice that doesn’t use words. Listen.”
~ Rumi

[/fusion_text][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”10″ bottom_margin=”200″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”no” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”center” link=”https://neilhanson.com/pilgrim-wheels” linktarget=”_self” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”20″ bottom_margin=”20″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]We’re up at 4:30 the next morning, headed up toward Flagstaff. There are a few miles of very narrow road indeed, and I can see why Dale was concerned. Reaching the top, I point out places where we can stop so Dale can drop me off, but he’s clearly intent on taking me further.

The bulk of this drive is good road through pretty country on a beautiful morning, road I’d rather be riding my bike on. Not to mention the little tiny voice in my mind telling me this is a bicycle trip, not a car trip. But I realize that this ride is a demonstration of affection by Dale. He’s worried about me riding on the narrow and steep portion of road, and he wants to give me something. This ride is that something. A couple times yesterday, I’d told Dale how much I appreciated the opportunities he gave me, and shared with him some regrets I had from those old days. During those conversations, Dale hadn’t replied with any similar sentiments, but I could see thoughts and sentiments working behind his eyes.

This ride this morning is his way of expressing those appreciations and those sentiments. When this understanding strikes me, I sit back and tell him just how much I’m enjoying the ride.

And I smile.

Reaching the outskirts of Flagstaff, Dale pulls into an empty parking lot. I unload my bike, and strap my bag on the back. We exchange pleasantries, a long and strong handshake, and a slap on the back. Then Dale drives off. I watch as he pulls out of the parking lot, and heads south toward Sedona. Our short time together has been a delight; I hope to be able to see him again soon.

But fate has something else in mind, and Dale’s life will come to an end in a few short weeks at the hands of a nasty but hidden infection that’s working in his body even as we’ve had this wonderful time together.

Every handshake we have with a good friend could be the last. Every time we watch as they drive off could be our last glimpse. Each time we break bread with someone we love might be the last chance we get to do so.

My final chance to break bread with Dale was the finest, most insightful, and most enjoyable dinner I ever had with him. Our final handshake was strong and carried great affection. It came at the end of a relaxing early morning car ride that was Dale’s way of saying thanks. I was smiling as I watched him drive away.

Rest in peace my friend, and thanks again for the ride![/fusion_text][/three_fourth][fullwidth backgroundcolor=”” backgroundimage=”” backgroundrepeat=”no-repeat” backgroundposition=”left top” backgroundattachment=”scroll” video_webm=”” video_mp4=”” video_ogv=”” video_preview_image=”” overlay_color=”” overlay_opacity=”0.5″ video_mute=”yes” video_loop=”yes” fade=”no” bordersize=”0px” bordercolor=”” borderstyle=”” paddingtop=”20px” paddingbottom=”20px” paddingleft=”0px” paddingright=”0px” menu_anchor=”” equal_height_columns=”no” hundred_percent=”no” class=”” id=””][one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”http://www.amazon.com/Pilgrim-Wheels-Reflections-Cyclist-Crossing/dp/0982639120/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1425163739&sr=1-1″ linktarget=”_blank” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

Pilgrim Wheels Excerpts

This post is part of a series of posts, representing excerpts from Pilgrim Wheels, a story of a cycling journey across America. Pilgrim Wheels was released on March 1, 2015. Before it’s release date, it had already won the following awards:

  • Great Southwest Book Festival – 2nd Place – General Non-Fiction
  • LA Book Festival – Honorable Mention – General Non-Fiction

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Lonely Lovely Desert

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“There is pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes,
By the deep sea and the music in its roar;
I love not man the less, but Nature more.”
~ Lord Byron

[/fusion_text][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”10″ bottom_margin=”200″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”no” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”center” link=”https://neilhanson.com/pilgrim-wheels” linktarget=”_self” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”20″ bottom_margin=”20″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]I expected to enjoy the solitude of my ride, and I have. More than I’d anticipated. The lonely lovely desert amplifies solitude. Wandering across these deserts has moved me beyond my expectations. I’ve found a deeper peace within myself.

How does the desert do this? I’ve always enjoyed time on my own. In solitude I’ve been able to discover the things within me and about me that make me what I am today. Time spent alone has always inspirited my mind and my soul, opening me up to myself. But this time alone through the desert has been teaching me a new dimension to solitude.

It started the morning I rode out of Twentynine Palms to cross the Mojave, after 20 miles when I stopped to take in water and food. Leaning against my bike with the low morning sun on my shoulder, the sacredness of the moment, the silence, the depth of the vast desolation. It was palpable. I could see for dozens of miles all around me. Even when the land was rising in one direction or the other, it rose with a constancy that accentuated the immensity of the openness around me. The silence and vastness were stunning.

I’d started to see bits of this on previous days of riding as I was moving into the Mojave, but that moment east of Twentynine Palms it consumed me. I could feel the hallowed wilderness pulling me into itself.

Solitude always wraps me in the inescapable arms of self-ness. The desert solitude I’ve discovered is much larger and deeper. It’s wrapped me and the silence around me into itself. I’m swallowed by the desert around me. The arms of solitude pull the desert through me and me through the desert. Is it introspection still, or is it something different? Extrospection?

I’d been learning about myself in a wider classroom. I’m a piece of a powerful wilderness around me, a wilderness that’s both merciless in its deadliness and profound in its beauty.[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][fullwidth backgroundcolor=”” backgroundimage=”” backgroundrepeat=”no-repeat” backgroundposition=”left top” backgroundattachment=”scroll” video_webm=”” video_mp4=”” video_ogv=”” video_preview_image=”” overlay_color=”” overlay_opacity=”0.5″ video_mute=”yes” video_loop=”yes” fade=”no” bordersize=”0px” bordercolor=”” borderstyle=”” paddingtop=”20px” paddingbottom=”20px” paddingleft=”0px” paddingright=”0px” menu_anchor=”” equal_height_columns=”no” hundred_percent=”no” class=”” id=””][one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”http://www.amazon.com/Pilgrim-Wheels-Reflections-Cyclist-Crossing/dp/0982639120/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1425163739&sr=1-1″ linktarget=”_blank” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

Pilgrim Wheels Excerpts

This post is part of a series of posts, representing excerpts from Pilgrim Wheels, a story of a cycling journey across America. Pilgrim Wheels was released on March 1, 2015. Before it’s release date, it had already won the following awards:

  • Great Southwest Book Festival – 2nd Place – General Non-Fiction
  • LA Book Festival – Honorable Mention – General Non-Fiction

[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][/fullwidth]

Coyote Flats

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“What makes the desert beautiful is that somewhere it hides a well.”
~ Antuine de Saint-Exupery

[/fusion_text][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”10″ bottom_margin=”200″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”no” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”center” link=”https://neilhanson.com/pilgrim-wheels” linktarget=”_self” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”20″ bottom_margin=”20″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]In Aquila, the Coyote Flats Cafe and Bar sings a sweet invitation to me as it comes into view. I lean my bike against the window in the cool shade beneath a big awning. Leaving my helmet and gloves with the bike, I saunter through the front door, me and my Lycra. What’s it like, you might wonder, sauntering into a desert bar called “Coyote Flats” wrapped in Lycra? Looking back, it does seem a little odd. But the only thing on my mind as I walk through the front door is water and cool air.

The place is mostly empty, just one couple in a booth behind me as I sit at the bar. I order water, a pitcher of it, straight up, eliciting the faintest of smiles from the waitress. She’s an attractive gal with enough miles on the odometer to know the gas pedal from the brake pedal, and has no interest in flirting with the weird old guy in spandex who just walked into the bar.

I’ve put down half a pitcher of water by the time she comes to take my order. She fills another pitcher and sets it in front of me, standing with her pen in her hand, distracted, waiting for me to order. It’s early afternoon and well north of 100 degrees. Perusing the menu, I comment on the heat. “Man, it’s hot out there.”

Setting her order pad down on the counter, crossing her arms, tapping the back of her pen against her lower lip, she looks out the window at my bike leaning there. Her eyes drift to mine with that look women can give men. You know the look, the one that says, “I’m wondering if you’re trying to act dumb, or if you really might be that dumb.” Not necessarily mean, just curious.

I smile sheepishly beneath the pressure of the question behind her look. Every man reading these words knows exactly what I’m talking about here. You get the look, so you know you’ve said or done something really stupid, but you don’t have a clue what it is you’ve done or said that is so outrageously idiotic. Which just makes it worse.

She sees all this wash across my face, and a small smile plays at the corners of her face. Still tapping the pen against her lower lip, she brings her elbows down to rest on the bar, leaning in a little closer to me, as if letting me in on her secret. “Honey, it’s June. It’s the hottest month in the Sonoran Desert.” Pausing, she looks again at my bicycle leaning against her window. “You’re riding a bicycle across the black asphalt in the hottest desert in the hottest month.”

She pauses there, looking into my eyes, raising one eyebrow, letting me know a question is coming. “What, exactly, did you expect?”

Hmmm. Good point. I might have heard those words whispered to me by the desert itself earlier today.

“Right,” I say, closing the menu and handing it to her, keeping my eyes on hers. “I’ll take the burger.” We smile at each other as she takes the menu.[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][fullwidth backgroundcolor=”” backgroundimage=”” backgroundrepeat=”no-repeat” backgroundposition=”left top” backgroundattachment=”scroll” video_webm=”” video_mp4=”” video_ogv=”” video_preview_image=”” overlay_color=”” overlay_opacity=”0.5″ video_mute=”yes” video_loop=”yes” fade=”no” bordersize=”0px” bordercolor=”” borderstyle=”” paddingtop=”20px” paddingbottom=”20px” paddingleft=”0px” paddingright=”0px” menu_anchor=”” equal_height_columns=”no” hundred_percent=”no” class=”” id=””][one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”http://www.amazon.com/Pilgrim-Wheels-Reflections-Cyclist-Crossing/dp/0982639120/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1425163739&sr=1-1″ linktarget=”_blank” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

Pilgrim Wheels Excerpts

This post is part of a series of posts, representing excerpts from Pilgrim Wheels, a story of a cycling journey across America. Pilgrim Wheels was released on March 1, 2015. Before it’s release date, it had already won the following awards:

  • Great Southwest Book Festival – 2nd Place – General Non-Fiction
  • LA Book Festival – Honorable Mention – General Non-Fiction

[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][/fullwidth]

Sensual Sand Dancing

[one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”50″ bottom_margin=”10″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

“I have always loved the desert. One sits down on a desert sand dune, sees nothing, hears nothing. Yet through the silence something throbs, and gleams…”
~ Antuine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince

[/fusion_text][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”10″ bottom_margin=”200″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”center” link=”https://neilhanson.com/pilgrim-wheels” linktarget=”_self” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”20″ bottom_margin=”20″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]Walking out of the store with full water bottles and sated thirst, the heat descends on me and drenches me. I’m a little nervous about whether my two bottles of water will be enough to make it 30 miles to Aguila, and walk back in to buy a little more liquid to be safe.

Back in the saddle and pedaling down the road, there’s a surrealistic quality to the flat road stretching out in front of me along the hot desert floor. A perfectly straight line of dark asphalt, disappearing into a cloud of shimmering heat far away in the miles ahead of me. Now and then, appearing magically from within this bright amorphous blanket across the road, a car will come toward me on the highway. As a car passes me going in my direction, I watch as they travel away from me and disappear into that magical shimmering cloud.

Saguaro cactus stand sentry throughout the sparse vegetation on both sides of the road, clumps of velvet mesquite in the low spots and washes. Along with the clumps of bright white flowers on the saguaro are holes drilled high up on the bigger ones. I assume the holes are home to the small finch-type birds I see moving around on the plants occasionally. As the afternoon progresses, the beautiful white saguaro flowers wilt, surrendering to the oppressive heat.

Far off on the vast plane of desolation to my left, sand and dust formed by the wind rises into a swirling dance across the desert. The little “storms” remind me of tornadoes, though there’s no “top” to them. They swirl from a narrow point on the ground up into a funnel of sand that rises toward the sky, where the funnel just ends. I suspect the air currents go higher, but the “top” I see is just the highest point that the swirling wind carries the sand from the desert floor before dropping it again, the falling sand creating a haze around the base of the funnels. In the Midwest, we call these dust devils, but I’ve never seen one that remotely approaches the scale of these I’m watching.

Several of these devils spin gracefully across the distant desert.  Like a troupe of exotic dancers made of sensual sand, weaving their way across the desert expanse, singing a seductive visual song across the miles, a song made more sensual by the heat pressing all around me. The silence around me adds a bass harmony, completed by the high harmony of the surreal cloud at the end of the distant ribbon of asphalt spitting cars toward me while swallowing the cars moving away from me. I’m reminded again how often mystics seem to wander in the desert.[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][fullwidth backgroundcolor=”” backgroundimage=”” backgroundrepeat=”no-repeat” backgroundposition=”left top” backgroundattachment=”scroll” video_webm=”” video_mp4=”” video_ogv=”” video_preview_image=”” overlay_color=”” overlay_opacity=”0.5″ video_mute=”yes” video_loop=”yes” fade=”no” bordersize=”0px” bordercolor=”” borderstyle=”” paddingtop=”20px” paddingbottom=”20px” paddingleft=”0px” paddingright=”0px” menu_anchor=”” equal_height_columns=”no” hundred_percent=”no” class=”” id=””][one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”http://www.amazon.com/Pilgrim-Wheels-Reflections-Cyclist-Crossing/dp/0982639120/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1425163739&sr=1-1″ linktarget=”_blank” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

Pilgrim Wheels Excerpts

This post is part of a series of posts, representing excerpts from Pilgrim Wheels, a story of a cycling journey across America. Pilgrim Wheels was released on March 1, 2015. Before it’s release date, it had already won the following awards:

  • Great Southwest Book Festival – 2nd Place – General Non-Fiction
  • LA Book Festival – Honorable Mention – General Non-Fiction

[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][/fullwidth]

The Sonoran

[one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”50″ bottom_margin=”10″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

“Language… has created the word ‘loneliness’ to express the pain of being alone.  And it has created the word ‘solitude’ to express the glory of being alone.”
~ Paul Johannes Tillich, The Eternal Now

[/fusion_text][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”10″ bottom_margin=”200″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”center” link=”https://neilhanson.com/pilgrim-wheels” linktarget=”_self” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”20″ bottom_margin=”20″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]The desert has taken on a new complexion this morning. The landscape around me is dotted with saguaro cactus, while the sandy landscape beneath the saguaro is covered only thinly with desert plants. The saguaro are fascinating, standing regal and tall, welcoming the heat and desiccation, an endless army of green soldiers scattered across the desert for as far as the eye can see, soaking in all the punishment the sledgehammer sun can pour down on them.

The saguaro blooms from April to June in the Sonoran. I’m at the very end of the bloom. The beautiful white flowers are out in full force this morning, shining brilliantly in the bright sunlight. Many of them have turned to a ruby colored fruit. I ponder the adaptability of life as I pedal through the heat, appreciating this plant that grows and blooms and produces fruit out here in such a hostile environment.

I’m feeling pretty small in this desert. This shrinking may have been developing slowly as I’ve come deeper into deserts, but I’m acutely aware of the feeling this morning. The brilliant dish of blue above me reflects across the vast expanse of sandy landscape around me. On most sides, along the horizon, mountains form the rim of the desert.

I’m the tiniest of specks on this vast desert, dwarfed by giant saguaro that stand 20 and 30 feet tall on all sides of me. Indeed, a firmament above and a firmament below, language borrowed from some other desert folk. Looking at the world around me, the language makes perfect sense this morning.

Traffic is sparse. A light quartering headwind keeps me company all the way to the end of Highway 72 at the junction with Highway 60, where I turn left. I stop and take in the last of my water, realizing that I’m at a significant turn here. I’ve traveled 700 miles so far, meandering generally southeast since I started back in Monterey. This marks the southernmost point on my trip. With this left turn, I’ll begin a northeast bearing that will move me back toward Colorado, at which point I’ll continue east.

I would have expected to feel “homeward bound” at this point, with a corresponding excitement. More cogent is my sense of sadness while crossing this milestone, signifying the passing of so much of the trip. I’m enjoying the peace and harmony I’m discovering in the deep solitude this trip is bringing to me. I’m feeling strong as my body comes into a high level of fitness that deals well with the long days of riding. The moments I’m traveling through become more enjoyable with each passing mile.

Life is very good. I’m happy. Content. Alone, but not lonely.

A friend once said to me, “you must be really comfortable in your own skin.” We were discussing the fact that I often enjoyed hunting trips alone, where I’d camp and hunt by myself for several days at a time. He’s a very social person, and said that so much time with nobody else around would drive him crazy.

It’s true I suppose. I am comfortable in my own skin. While I enjoy being around other people, I also truly enjoy time I spend on my own. By myself, I’m able to find a more intense quality of thought than I can when I feel others around me. In solitude, the depth of my reflection grows. Spending energy interacting with others reduces the energy available for introspection, inspection, contemplation and speculation.[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][fullwidth backgroundcolor=”” backgroundimage=”” backgroundrepeat=”no-repeat” backgroundposition=”left top” backgroundattachment=”scroll” video_webm=”” video_mp4=”” video_ogv=”” video_preview_image=”” overlay_color=”” overlay_opacity=”0.5″ video_mute=”yes” video_loop=”yes” fade=”no” bordersize=”0px” bordercolor=”” borderstyle=”” paddingtop=”20px” paddingbottom=”20px” paddingleft=”0px” paddingright=”0px” menu_anchor=”” equal_height_columns=”no” hundred_percent=”no” class=”” id=””][one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”http://www.amazon.com/Pilgrim-Wheels-Reflections-Cyclist-Crossing/dp/0982639120/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1425163739&sr=1-1″ linktarget=”_blank” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

Pilgrim Wheels Excerpts

This post is part of a series of posts, representing excerpts from Pilgrim Wheels, a story of a cycling journey across America. Pilgrim Wheels was released on March 1, 2015. Before it’s release date, it had already won the following awards:

  • Great Southwest Book Festival – 2nd Place – General Non-Fiction
  • LA Book Festival – Honorable Mention – General Non-Fiction

[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][/fullwidth]

False Security

[one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”50″ bottom_margin=”10″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

“Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.”
~ Helen Keller

[/fusion_text][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”10″ bottom_margin=”200″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”center” link=”https://neilhanson.com/pilgrim-wheels” linktarget=”_self” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”20″ bottom_margin=”20″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]I’m up and riding at first light. There’s more traffic today at this early hour than I’ve been seeing, and I consider whether it would have been wise to have a brighter headlight with me. I started the trip with a brighter one, but that extra pound or two was part of the flotsam I jettisoned back in Paso Robles. Sitting in the comfort of my living room, planning the trip out, it seemed like an easy and obvious choice to bring along the heavy extra light in order to add another level of security to my morning rides. However, out where the rubber and the road come together, the scales took on a different tilt.

It’s easy to talk about the abstract notion of security. We’d all like to feel completely and totally secure, to feel that no danger can touch us. From the time we’re infants, we reach for the arms of our mothers, where nothing can harm us or scare us.

But life can be a dangerous place. The deeper we bury ourselves under the weight of security, the less real life is available for us to live. Every form of security has a price, and too often, we simply accept that added security is the highest priority. It’s so easy to do. We get scared, and we want the scared to go away. We never stop reaching for mother’s arms.

But should security really be our priority? Always? Is safety the highest priority in life, the thing we want the most? On our deathbed, do we want to proclaim that, above all else, we remained safe?

What’s the risk, and what’s the cost to mitigate it? Those are the questions. Life doesn’t give us the luxury of eliminating every risk, or living in a perfectly secure environment. Life extracts a price for every risk we mitigate. We’ve got to be smart enough to mitigate wisely. At some point, we need to let go of mom’s arms, and face the risks life has to offer us. That’s the only way to discover real life.

That’s living.

Helen Keller said that security is mostly a superstition, that it doesn’t exist in nature. She said that life is either a grand adventure or nothing at all.

I’ll choose grand adventure every time.[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][fullwidth backgroundcolor=”” backgroundimage=”” backgroundrepeat=”no-repeat” backgroundposition=”left top” backgroundattachment=”scroll” video_webm=”” video_mp4=”” video_ogv=”” video_preview_image=”” overlay_color=”” overlay_opacity=”0.5″ video_mute=”yes” video_loop=”yes” fade=”no” bordersize=”0px” bordercolor=”” borderstyle=”” paddingtop=”20px” paddingbottom=”20px” paddingleft=”0px” paddingright=”0px” menu_anchor=”” equal_height_columns=”no” hundred_percent=”no” class=”” id=””][one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”http://www.amazon.com/Pilgrim-Wheels-Reflections-Cyclist-Crossing/dp/0982639120/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1425163739&sr=1-1″ linktarget=”_blank” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

Pilgrim Wheels Excerpts

This post is part of a series of posts, representing excerpts from Pilgrim Wheels, a story of a cycling journey across America. Pilgrim Wheels was released on March 1, 2015. Before it’s release date, it had already won the following awards:

  • Great Southwest Book Festival – 2nd Place – General Non-Fiction
  • LA Book Festival – Honorable Mention – General Non-Fiction

[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][/fullwidth]

Silence

[one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”50″ bottom_margin=”10″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

“The quieter you become the more you are able to hear.”
~ Rumi

[/fusion_text][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”10″ bottom_margin=”200″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”center” link=”https://neilhanson.com/pilgrim-wheels” linktarget=”_self” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”20″ bottom_margin=”20″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]Twenty miles out of town, I stop along the side of the road to take in a few calories and some liquid. The sun has crept above the horizon, a bright furnace of nuclear fusion, beginning the morning ascent into his throne in the sky. Mountains rim the horizon around me. The air is crystal clear. I’m a tiny dot in a vast petri dish of sand and desert plants.

And the silence…

The silence of the open desert again, that lack of stuff to create sound as the wind moves through it. A great metaphor for our time here in this life. While we’re here, we might as well be invisible were it not for the impact we have on the world around us. The things we move through make the music that becomes our life.

Once we leave, the only thing we leave behind is the sound we made while moving through the obstacles we find. The only thing we take with us is the silence we’ve nurtured in our heart. We’re like an invisible wind, only apparent to the universe around us through the deeds we do, the songs we sing, and the harmonies we create in the world as we move through it.

The hypnotic silence wraps itself around me. The early morning magic soaks into me as surely as the heat from the rising morning sun burns into my cheeks. I’ve always enjoyed the quiet, but am discovering a new dimension to silence here in the still desert morning. No cricket chirps, no bird sings, no leaves rustle with the movement of air. A truck drives by. I hear it coming from miles away, and hear it for miles as it moves down the highway after it passes. With every 50 or 60 seconds, it puts another mile between itself and me, and drops the sound even further.

Deep silence is something so rare that it’s both conspicuous and remarkable when it confronts us. As I reflect into the depths of the silence around me, the desert itself becomes both more surreal and more personal. Quiet so deep and so broad that it becomes one of the prominent defining dimensions of the world around me. It’s hypnotic. Mesmerizing. Sensual. I know I should get moving down the highway, but the silence holds me. I wallow in it.[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][fullwidth backgroundcolor=”” backgroundimage=”” backgroundrepeat=”no-repeat” backgroundposition=”left top” backgroundattachment=”scroll” video_webm=”” video_mp4=”” video_ogv=”” video_preview_image=”” overlay_color=”” overlay_opacity=”0.5″ video_mute=”yes” video_loop=”yes” fade=”no” bordersize=”0px” bordercolor=”” borderstyle=”” paddingtop=”20px” paddingbottom=”20px” paddingleft=”0px” paddingright=”0px” menu_anchor=”” equal_height_columns=”no” hundred_percent=”no” class=”” id=””][one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”none” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”https://neilhanson.com/pilgrim-wheels” linktarget=”_self” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

Pilgrim Wheels Excerpts
This post is part of a series of posts, representing excerpts from Pilgrim Wheels, a story of a cycling journey across America. Pilgrim Wheels will be released in early March, let me know if you’re interested in doing an advance review.

[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][/fullwidth]

The Edge

[one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”50″ bottom_margin=”10″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

“We’re always attracted to the edges of what we are, out by the edges where it’s a little raw and nervy.”
~ E.L. Doctorow

[/fusion_text][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”10″ bottom_margin=”200″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”center” link=”https://neilhanson.com/pilgrim-wheels” linktarget=”_self” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”20″ bottom_margin=”20″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]Pre-dawn darkness sees me quietly stealing out into the wilderness, away from people, toward solitude. Rolling down the road through a sleeping town toward the vast empty expanse of the Mojave Desert, I listen to the sweet sound of my freshly oiled chain reflected from the buildings in town as I push my bicycle out onto the surface of a vast desert wilderness.

Once I leave town, the next services are 90 miles east, the longest crossing I’ve ever made. My cache of water at the 70 mile mark is my insurance policy should the wind turn bad on me. In addition, I have two full water bottles, two liters of Gatorade, and another half-liter of water in a bladder stowed away in my bag.

This crossing brings me to within shouting distance of the threshold of mortality. If the wind blows the wrong direction, or the heat gets particularly high, I’ll have a pretty tough day. If both happen, I could be in serious trouble — the kind of serious trouble that can be life-threatening.

Not to over-dramatize the risk. I am, after all, on a public highway. In most cases, if I end up in serious trouble, there’s at least some chance that I can flag down help. Nonetheless, I’m alone on a bicycle crossing a desert wilderness in the summer. Things can turn ugly in a hurry.

So why on earth am I doing this? These next few days really are the “heart of the truth” for me, crossing first this Mojave, then the Sonoran. Crossing the heart of truth, out on the edge of comfort and safety.

Edge: A rim or a brink, or, a place where something is likely to begin. A penetrating and incisive quality, or, the degree of sharpness of an instrument designed to cut. Keenness, as of desire or enjoyment; zest: The brisk walk gave an edge to my appetite. (Compilation from several sources.)

Life happens on the edges. We can’t find the next place on our journey until we discover the edge between the place we are and the place we need to go. Something ends and something else can begin only along an edge. Along these edges we find and feel the penetrating and incisive qualities that give definition to our life. Our interface with life is sharpened at the edge. We discover our greatest zest and our most keen desires at the edge.

I feel alive in a way we rarely get to feel alive in our safe and coddled culture today. Dawn spreads a beautiful pastel palette of color across the eastern horizon in front of me, adding fuel to my wonder and excitement.[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][fullwidth backgroundcolor=”” backgroundimage=”” backgroundrepeat=”no-repeat” backgroundposition=”left top” backgroundattachment=”scroll” video_webm=”” video_mp4=”” video_ogv=”” video_preview_image=”” overlay_color=”” overlay_opacity=”0.5″ video_mute=”yes” video_loop=”yes” fade=”no” bordersize=”0px” bordercolor=”” borderstyle=”” paddingtop=”20px” paddingbottom=”20px” paddingleft=”0px” paddingright=”0px” menu_anchor=”” equal_height_columns=”no” hundred_percent=”no” class=”” id=””][one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”none” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”https://neilhanson.com/pilgrim-wheels” linktarget=”_self” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

Pilgrim Wheels Excerpts
This post is part of a series of posts, representing excerpts from Pilgrim Wheels, a story of a cycling journey across America. Pilgrim Wheels will be released in early March, let me know if you’re interested in doing an advance review.

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