on the road to...Argentina???

So, I was thinking about my visit to Argentina. I guess that’s what we call it now. Actually, I’ve been to Argentina a number of times and the end result is always the same. Yeah, I always come back home to ruination and heartache…that part never changes. I can totally relate to what Governor Sanford is feeling and dealing with. It is always so beautiful and carefree in Argentina, while you are there. There is a sense of timelessness and fluidity that is almost intoxicating like some kind of powerful mind altering drug and the longer we stay the more hooked we become. It is only natural that most men find it very difficult to live in those two types of entirely different realities. When we are back in the real world there are responsibilities and demands that beg our endless attention. We put on a brave face and plow through all the mundane tasks and essentially go through the motions. But, we can only continue that charade for so long and then we begin to crack under the weight of the moral dilemma we have created. I have to keep reminding myself…yes…I did create this mess. I created this mess when I willingly chose to abandon every principle that has given my life a framework and meaning. All that gone for a trip to Argentina. It would seem perfectly logical that one trip, just like one snakebite, would be enough to allow us to understand this is some bad stuff and beyond what we believe we can control. But, no…as I said before, trips to Argentina are so stimulating they strip us of our ability to think logically, if at all. Things totally foreign to our ingrained morals and belief systems seem harmless and justified. However, the problem is we are not thinking straight and taking a lot of chances based on that faulty thinking. So, we just dig the hole a little deeper and deeper. Meanwhile, back home the dutiful wife is holding the fort down and perhaps wondering if Argentina is really as beautiful as she hears it is from me. Maybe I should go there someday, she thinks. Why do men go to Argentina you might ask? Well…I suppose you might get lots of different answers on this one. I can only speak to why I went. It’s not about what Argentina represents but the IDEA of what it represents. Clearly, it is a parallel but alternate reality and most men believe that they can operate in both at the same time. If you don’t believe that just compare the two or take the emotional temperature of the two. I promise you one is cool and Argentina is blazing hot. But, it is obvious that you cannot get too close to that kind of fire, It seriously does something to your brain…it actually changes your brain chemistry to the point you are ready to abandon all that was formerly important to you. And, that’s exactly what I did on more than one occasion. Some men are, by nature risk takers. But, the problem is that we can’t seem to understand that some risks are just not worth the consequences. Seriously, that is a bitter pill to swallow when your dreamy false reality comes crashing down upon you. And it always does. That’s the way God wants it and that’s how He designed it to end. It’s just like Icarus who became too giddy because he was able to fly and flew too close to the sun and as Jars of Clay sings, "I flew too high and like Icarus I collide". We collide when we leave the safety and protection of moral principles guiding our lives. God wants it that way too. It has been said that wisdom cannot prevent a fall, but may cushion it. I can say that my falls have never been too cushioned and I usually fell flat on my face and fell hard. But, yeah…God wants that too. The great thing is …He is always there to pick me up. And He always tells me the same thing…I love you and…please…stay away from Argentina.

Seriously...SHARE THE ROAD

June 16, 2009 12:23 a.m.
(..."Steve Epstein said of being tailed by frustrated motorists.")
And God Forbid a slow moving cyclist would move over to the right side of the road to allow a "tailgater" to pass so that he could get to his doctor appointment on time...
(It's amazing that this town is now issuing ordinances on manners and creating a new "protected class" of citizens. Have you hugged your bicycle today?)
Perhaps we also need to have license plates on bicycles so that car drivers can report 2-wheelers that jump out of no where, drive at night with no lights, run stop signs and red lights and pass on the right...Heck, there are bicycles being used by 16-19 year olds to case homes in parts of Columbia and an ordinance for license plates would help identify these criminals who are riding around between homes and in backyards and then ride away on sidewalks.
I've also witnessed bicycle riders litter and yell at automobiles. Are we not allowed to yell back?

I found the above response from someone named Ray Shapiro commenting on a news story about the passing of an ordinance protecting bike riders from harassment in Columbia Missouri. I really need to respond to this as I am a cyclist that has ridden in a lot of traffic all across the US. Sadly, when riding bikes in traffic it is a us(motorist) versus them (bikers) mentality that creates incidents with oftentimes deadly outcomes.The distain that Ray spews in his comment is commonly heard from those who do not bike. He is using broad generalizations and stereotyping to apply his experience to all bike riders. Ray is the type of guy that I am really afraid of when I am out riding on the roads. He has an agenda and feels the need to school those "criminals on bikes". This guy would hurt you out on the road if push came to shove. The scary part is that there a lot of Rays roaming around in cars with an ax to grind. Unless you have been on a bike, in traffic, and have a car pass by fast and really close you don't have a clue how scary this is. Many iniatives are being undertaken to encourage motorist to share the road but attitudes remain the same. I have been lucky and have only been yelled at, mooned, flipped off, and threatened with a variety of expletives. However, I know others who have been on the receiving end of worse and even being hit by cars. The universal problem both for cyclist and other drivers is our sense of self importance and privlege when we drive cars. The general attitude is "GET THE HELL OUTTA MY WAY" or else suffer my wrath and the consequences. Anyone or anything, especially a bicycle, impeding my self absorbed agenda is at risk of being on the receiving end of some really bad behavior. The other reason that Rays' comment really irks me is this is personal to me. A really good friend of mine was riding with his dad and his dad got hit from the rear and was killed. You can watch a video of this incredible cyclist and advocate for social justice here,
There are some good cyclist in world doing great things with bikes. We have a right to be on the road and are simply asking you to be aware and for just one second to put your selfish driving habits and indignation aside and give us the space we deserve. You who do not bike really should try it if only once or twice just to see how it feels when you whiz by me at 50-60 miles an hour. So, Ray,I'll be watching out for you if I ever come to Columbia Missouri. I promise I won't "jump out of no where, drive at night with no lights, run stop signs and red lights and pass on the right".And I'm pretty sure I won't be riding in your backyard or on your sidewalks....

So, today I’m just sitting here under these cloudy and stormy skies and thinking about doing impossible, or seemingly impossible, things. I was a guy that allowed impossible to rob me of a lot. I believed if something to be impossible then why even try. I did a seemingly impossible thing a year ago today. I rode a bike across a scorching hot southern California desert what still seems like an impossible distance in brutal heat. Yeah, hot, really hot. It was 108 or so not to mention what the pavement was less than three feet below me. The distance…112 miles. Yes, 112 body fluid sapping, mind boiling, and skin frying miles. You cannot possibly imagine how hot it was unless you were there. I came to have a new appreciation of the necessity of water that day. I realized that, like many of us, I entertained a sense of entitlement when it came to clean available drinking water. I thought, as I rode, what if I had to walk miles in this blistering heat only to get dirty disease infected water. What if? What if I had to do it multiple times a day…every day. What if my daughters had to do it? What if they couldn’t go to school because of “fetchin” water? The clean water issue became very personal to me this day. As if it wasn’t clear enough, it became more real as we got separated from our support vehicle and a handful of us nearly ran completely out of water. I felt panicky and knew our options were beyond limited. I prayed that God would shelter us and protect us and provide as He always has and just rode on. Somewhere along the next few miles, I was riding alone and plain as I have ever heard anyone speak, I heard the voice of God speak. I am sure that some reading this might say it was the heat and lack of water. We always find excuses and other explanations when we don’t want to hear and acknowledge the voice of God. He is speaking to us all the time but we have lost the ability to listen and shut out all the interfering distractions. I know that’s why His voice seemed so plaintive as I rode. There was nothing but me, rocks and heat. So, I heard God say, “I didn’t bring you to this desert, like I did my son, to show you your weaknesses…I brought you here to show you your strengths…” WOW…Talk about getting knocked upside the head. I just rode in silence for a while thinking about what I heard. I realized how God empowers people in amazing and unusual ways to do incredible things for His glory. It was happening right here under my nose as I rode and I didn’t even get it…till now. So, I caught up with the rest of my friends and we were still trying to ration our collective water. I looked up ahead at this long amazing stretch of road and just continued to pray and believe we would be taken care of in some fashion. We talked of holding up our nearly empty water bottles at passing cars. However, one small problem….essentially NO passing cars. We were in the middle of a “no mans’ land” as far as traffic went. I continued to stare at the road ahead and way, way off in the distance I saw a speck on the road. I watched as it came closer to us and strained my eyes to make out the possibility of begging for water. Finally, the vehicle got close enough to make out and see it was a California Department of Highways pickup truck. We stopped and the truck rolled up and stopped and rolled down the window. The driver looked at us and said…”You all need some water?” I was so dumfounded I almost didn’t know what to say. He had the most AMAZING ICE COLD water and filled every bottle and bag we had and chatted a minute and was gone. Need I say more here? Coincidence? Are you kidding me? This was turning out to be a stunning day and we had MILES to go. Now I really had a lot to think about and I was so absorbed in the thoughts that the miles ticked by. The desert is stark but there is a unique beauty that lives in fragile coexistence unlike anywhere else I have ever seen. You wonder how there possibly can be any life here, but there is and it’s just more subtle. It was just amazing to me that we could ride bikes over 100 miles without one lick of shade. There was no escape from the sun except for a railroad bridge over a dry stream bed where we took a short respite. So, we pedaled and pedaled and it became Zen like watching the shadows on the ground. I am sure I became completely hypnotized for 30-40 miles. So, as the sun was sinking back into California, at our backs, we crossed out of our first state into the next almost seamlessly. Finally, the impossible thing has happened today…we were in Arizona at the end of 112 miles. So, tomorrow would be another really hot day in the Arizona desert but I guess we were starting to see impossible become possible and God was smiling at that. A lot…

So, wow...today is June 9th. It is really incredible how time just drifts by like those big fluffy white clouds on a summer day. One day effortlessly goes by and blends into the next and next. I seems like the less we watch and measure the days in hours and meetings and appointments and lunch breaks the faster time goes by. Somehow that seems to be the opposite to me. I feel like the relaxed careless lazy days should be longer. Anyways, the point of all this is to mark an anniversary. A very memorable anniversary for me. As I sit here typing this, exactly one year ago I was on my bike riding through the streets of Santa Monica and Hollywood California starting day one of a cross country bike ride. I remember it so well and clear even as I sit here typing. I was engulfed with a whole assortment of emotions and my senses were being assaulted with the sights and sounds of a beautiful California morning. I won't lie...I was so scared I was barely breathing, especially as the Hollywood hills loomed large ahead. I knew what was in store for this day as I “cheated” and used Google maps to preview the terrain we would cover this day. I seriously couldn't even think about it as it was debilitating for me personally. Our spirits were high but there was an undercurrent of anxiety as thick as molasses. We rode on and the day heated up as we left the coastline and started to climb and climb and climb...WOW. The scenery was beautiful but the negative self talk was raging in my head. Shut up...already, I'm trying to ride a bike here. The defeating part was looking ahead and at where this road was heading. Not good. Must keep head down...don't look ahead. Well, that worked only for a couple of miles. Hmmmm...now what? Just keep pedaling. So, one crank after another it went. The climbs were not easy for me. I reveled in the infrequent downhill only to have to go back up even more. I remember someone saying if you're gonna give up, do it on the first day. Well, the fact is that I am not a quitter and so I just rode and prayed a lot for strength and stamina. I pedaled until I was just completely depleted and exhausted. The combination of the heat and the exertion and the lunch stuck in my throat began to take a toll. I started to feel a little nauseous but I pressed on and up at a snails pace. I looked down at my speedometer and couldn't believe I was still upright at 3-4 miles per hour. At this point it was just a grind to the top. My nausea increased and now my heart rate was increasing more and more as I continued to pedal. I was maxing out. The battle was in full swing now. My stomach lurched with each turn of the pedal and the chatter in my head was screaming..QUIT...QUIT NOW. I would stop for a minute and then start again and repeated this cycle until that didn't work anymore. I thought I could rest for about an hour or so and then go on but it was getting hotter and the top was yet ahead. Finally, my heart rate got up so high I was feeling light headed and the nausea was in complete control. I spotted a place to stop with no other plan beyond stopping. One of my teammate riders, Don, stopped with me and waited patiently to see what was next. While waiting, Aaron came by and saw me “broke down” by the side of the road and came to assess the situation and help. It was decided that I needed to quit for the day and get a ride in to town. Aaron walked out onto the road and flagged down a truck whose driver agreed to take me in. We loaded my bike in and took off. When I saw how close I was to the top I was really disappointed, as the rest of the way in was one really long downhill glide. I learned a lesson right then and there. I will not quit, I will not give up or give in to defeat. I will ride this ride. Whatever it takes, however slow I must go, whether I am last or not, I will ride this ride and I will finish something for once in my life. So, yeah, that's pretty much what I was doing a year ago today. My how time flies by.