One Week Until Departure

My days have been mostly leisurely: sleeping late, eating, reading, catching up with college friends, interspersed with a bit of training - more running near my house, spinning on the exercise bike, or taking Cosmo out for a spin around the block on warmer days. My bike needed a few adjustments - a handlebar rotation and a new seat selected from the many in our garage (I hope my butt can withstand the one I chose). I also adjusted my shoe clips; this is my first time riding with clips which feels great. I heard they can increase pedalling efficiency by 30%. But with clips comes an extra element of attention - you have to be careful to unclip, with a quick ankle rotation, every time you stop. I learned by experience when I unclipped one shoe, but leaned over on the side of the shoe I left clipped in, which remained attached to the pedal as I fell over.

Christmas had a bicycle theme for me - I was given tires from my sister, gloves and water bottles from my mother, inner tubes and tube-changing tools from Dave, and a map of Baja California from Andrew. The day was a pleasant celebration with family and food. We watched Cast Away that evening. My favorite scene is when he knocks out his troublesome tooth with an ice skate; it fades to four years later when he spears a fish from yards away, and as he eats it raw you see the transformation his body has taken. I'd like to think that I could survive any situation, adapt to my environment with the simplest of tools. Could I make it without the many possessions I take for granted? And that's all I have to say about that.

I had a tooth extracted myself yesterday, a canine. It was a baby tooth that refused to fall out after 22 years, holding on stubbornly with half a root. The extraction was almost entirely painless and almost enjoyable, since I got to keep the tooth in a little clear case. It felt as if the last remnant of my childhood had been taken from me. Ha! I love being sappy and sentimental, mostly because I think it's funny.

After a trip to REI for the fourth or fifth time, Andrew and I went to some thrift stores for books. I got five books for under $10, which will be great on the trip. I started reading one and was so inspired I put on my boots, walked out into the night and climbed a tree and sat thinking for a quarter of an hour. My thinking went like this: on the premise that life is so good, how can I structure my thinking so as to take hold of its goodness, especially when I am feeling down, lethargic, or am tempted to settle for less than what is truly good? I love books because they have the power to pry open and challenge my thinking; a single sentence has the potential to widen my appreciation of life and narrow my focus on what's important, a grain of sand, a pine needle poking me in the back of my neck while I sit in a tree at night talking to the wind about life. I appreciate a good movie occasionally, especially ones that make me think, but I feel they cannot match a books' words playing on my own imagination, to allow me to grow as a person. I've already experienced four months without television when I studied abroad and it was fantastic, totally conducive to community, especially with new people. I am looking forward to the next few months bereft of television.

Bikes and Beers

To get excited for the trip and learn a bit about where we are going, I started reading a travel memoir of a couple's bicycle tour through Mexico and South America. The first chapter of Andes to the Amazon by Bruce Junek describes the "archetype of the pilgrim traveler: one who realizes how miraculous the natural world is, and how little of life we really understand. The pilgrim watches and learns, contemplating with compassion the lives of those he or she meets. A pilgrim's journey does not require a specific destination. In fact the destination can be secondary to the overall purpose of the experience. The journey itself, the act of mindful travel, is the purpose." We are pilgrims. I made a list of goals I have for this trip:

• Experience another culture, and improve my Spanish
• Stay aware of people and place, fully living in each moment, as well as larger social and political issues
• Write effectively about my experiences, finding inspiration in everything
• Nurture relationships with my travel mates, rely on each other
• Practice habits that align with my beliefs
• Spread love, receive love

These are ambitious goals, I know. Almost all of them could be undertaken here at home, yet at home I too easily succumb to habits and behaviors that I would rather shake. There is something about being in another place, especially travelling, that offers new possibilities and personal growth. I have no idea what will happen on this trip, but if I approach all things with patience and openness, then I will have a great experience and learn much. The author of the book I'm reading says, "We may not always control life's events, but we can control how we will react to those events."

Though the paint job on my bicycle frame is finished, most of the work lies ahead. I took the frame into Dave's bike shop, where we spent several hours installing a new crank set - the system of front gears, cranks, and pedals. After Dave got off work, we picked up some beer on the way home. Sipping our libations, we continued the construction of my bike in the basement. We opened many of the packages which had arrived a few days earlier. Some of the items I was unsure what to do with. Dave, however, is a skilled mechanic and avoids any instruction manuals. He helped me assemble the gears on the back wheel and mount it. We put new handlebars on, and attached the brakes and shifters. We put on the front and rear derailleurs, and threaded all the cabling. A couple of hours and beers later, I had a beautiful ridable new bike. With an earthy green frame, silver components and white handlebar wrapping, I had to name it Cosmo, short for Cosmpolite: "One who is at home in every place; a citizen of the world." I am so excited.

Nocturnal Wonderland

I must make a few general comments regarding my blog. I am going on this three-month bike trip with my two brothers, David and Andrew, and even though we will be together the whole time, we will experience things differently. I am writing this blog from my own perspective, and the views and opinions expressed here definitely reflect my own. I am doing this to share my experiences with my loved ones (if you are reading this then you fall under that category), and to comment on what I see, who I meet. What I see will of course be processed through my own worldview. But I am also writing a blog for myself, with the intent of honing my writing skills. Having an audience will motivate me to put more effort into my posts. But seriously, please do not feel any pressure to keep up with the blog. Honestly, who reads blogs anyway? I've only ever read two - including my brother Andrew's which I recommend (http://www.lifebybike.blogspot.com/, he might be writing about the trip as well). Still, I would love to receive any comments on our experiences, or about my beliefs. I hope my blog is rewarding in some way to you all. Finally, a sentiment I share with Andrew...go ride your bike!

Preparations are coming smoothly. I spent another hour sanding down all the surfaces of the frame using rough sandpaper. Then I taped off all the areas and holes that shouldn't get painted. After wiping off the paint powder, I sprayed one side, covering it deep green. After 45 minutes I flipped it over and sprayed the other side. Later on I repeated the process with a clear coat finish. Drips don't bother me, no one will see them unless they're inspecting the frame, and imperfections give it character. The whole process was quite fun.

It snowed a whole heap that evening, which made me happy. I was beginning to miss the sparkle of Holland. I suited up and went for a run to continue my training. I learned from experience a few weeks ago that running at night while it's snowing is very exhilarating. I went off-road, over rough frozen cornfields and through the forest where I turned on my headlamp. I leaped over fallen limbs and dodged between trees, my fists held up like a boxer's to deter any eye-attacking twigs. The leaves and humus were soft, and with a layer of snow this particular forest running was both thrilling and exhausting. I felt alive. I'd better be able to do this stuff when I'm sixty, or life won't be worth living anymore. If this is the only age I get to be active like this, well hell, I'm taking advantage of it while I can, because I can't imagine a way to live more fully than stampeding through a forest at night with sheets of unique flakes parting before my unbreakable wake. It was cold, but back home 45 minutes later I dripped sweat from too many layers of clothing.

Three Weeks to Departure

Today my bike arrived. It came in three large boxes. Excitedly, but rather foolishly, I ran barefoot outside in shorts and a t-shirt to retrieve them from the UPS dude. I transitioned from unpacking my belongings which I had brought home yesterday for the last time from college, to opening the various boxes of goodies. All in all there were 20 packages consisting of dozens of components, including an old frame, all-new parts, and cycling shoes for the trip.

The frame is of course the most exciting element. It is Trek brand, white, and dirty. Since I will be spending up to three months in intimate contact with this new friend, it needs a personal touch, and that means a new paint job. I tenderly wiped it down with soapy water in the wash tub. After the wash, I spent an hour sanding all the surfaces by hand. A good roughing up will ensure the new coat of paint adheres properly. A bike frame has a surprising many surfaces.

With that job finished, Andrew suggested we head to the hardware and pick out some paint. I assumed we had a vehicle at our disposal, especially since it was 4:30pm in mid-December. We did not. Okay, I thought, here we go. I pulled on what winter riding gear I had, and selected one of the many bikes from the garage. We headed out into the chilly dusk. My hands and face were cold, but it was a pretty short ride. We made it alright, warming up inside the store while I picked out the optimal shade of green spray-paint. After a few minutes we were back outside, when Andrew announced he had to head straight to his dentist appointment in downtown Ann Arbor.

Thus it was that I found myself starting back alone. It was now completely dark, so I switched on the red-flashing light on the rear of my bike. This commuting bike is fitted with a single-speed gear, which negates any shifting options. That makes uphills especially difficult for my non-conditioned legs. I was already tired, and it had gotten colder. My concern grew on the last few hills where spurts of cars chased me from behind, synchronized with the last traffic light before my street. I made it though, and turned off onto the first dirt road which offered a back route home. I couldn't see the potholes until I hit them. This chilly experience was worth it though, since I was allowed a last glimpse of dusk through branches drifting past…fluffy orange clouds pasted on deep blue sky (Hope colors!) amidst the enclosing darkness and cold. I pulled in at 5:55pm, yelped at the cold as I fumbled for the hidden spare key, and stubbed my numb toes as I hopped indoors into the warmth. I quick logged on to check the temperature…it was 18 degrees with an index of 4.

That ride essentially began my training for the trip. It won’t really occur to me what I am about to put my body through for the next few months until we’re actually doing it. But I have the next three weeks to prepare as much as I can. Later on that evening, I moved a bookcase in my bedroom to make room on the floor for a mattress (I got used to my living situation this past semester). I removed the decorative items from the top of the bookcase, one of which was a drilled-out hand grenade. This relic of my boyhood struck me - what kind of a world do we live in where kids prize destructive weapons as novelties? I determined to get rid of it for good. It is a small step to rearranging my bedroom, but progress nonetheless for peace in the world and in my heart.