The PEDALlers have reached Approvecho in Cottage Grove, Oregon. Its misty, rainy and mountainous around these parts - very beautiful!
We arrived in the darkness, and are looking forward to seeing this place in the light, along with all the amazing work they are doing here. Expect another blog soon!
Check out the most recent blogs for more details of what we've been up to in the past week or so:
Most recent blog
Kristi
Welcome! This is the OLD BLOG for P.E.D.A.L. Across the Americas. For our NEW website, please click on the link below:
Sunday, November 28, 2010
South of the 49th
A Farewell to Justin and Cold Weather-Warm Hearts
Hi Everyone, Lucas here again, hoping all is well and fine out there. I hope your staying warm, we are for the most part. For our American readers its about 17F right now, and for our Canadian friends, it is -10. However you want to put it, it is darn cold out there.
There are two recent blog posts that i do not want to bury with this post so please read Steve's Blog and Chris' Blog
I have a lot to catch you up on though so I won’t waste too much time. My camera has broke, so unfortunately no pictures which is too bad cause I really would love to show you some of the things we have seen, it has been quite amazing. Garrett has a camera as well so hopefully he will add some pictures soon. When cameras are working we take a lot of pictures, and if you are interested in seeing all of them click on the slideshow on our homepage of www.pedalacrosstheamericas.com.
I also have an elaborate post from Chris who left the tour to go home yesterday, about Viera and his time out on Orcas Island. I will post it with this. Also please check out the last blog by PEDAL newcomer Steve, who has some interesting thoughts to share with us
The big news right now is that Justin has departed from us. He left in Victoria, taking a train home from Vancouver to Toronto, and then to the family farm in Sutton Ontario. He loved every minute of this trip, and wished he could see more, but ultimately, he is weary from travelling such a long time, and probably most importantly, wants to keep his amazing family farm going up in Sutton. He will still be working on this project, which wouldnt be where it is at without him. We all wish Justin so much luck and are going to miss him so very much!
Another fairly important sidenote: we made it across the Straight relatively easy. We left Victoria, BC, Canada, on a cold and rainy morning, taking the motliest ferry across the straight and arriving Port Angeles, WA, USA, in slightly warmer, dryer weather.
The old boat pitched and rolled like an old sea schooner, and when I reached customs on the other side I was living green in more ways then one.
We got there early in the afternoon so we had a little time to explore the city and try a little compare and contrast of the United States and Canada. As far as I could tell, very little had changed from where we stood and the similar sized communities just north of the 49th.
That night we enjoyed our host Lorie, and her nice house with a great fireplace. We got dried out and other than a sick night for Steve, we had a great night, and were happy to wake up warm and with nicer weather coming in.
That day we rode to Sequim and Quilcene, the group splitting apart on misunderstanding. We had our first glimpse of the Olympic National Park, in all its snow-capped wonder.
Steve, Chris and I ended up waiting in Sequim to have lunch with Kristi and Garrett. We had taken this beautiful back trail all along the straight and through amazing rainforest valleys. Unfortunately we got a little mixed up and found out Kristi and Garrett had taken the famous 101 highway down to Quilcene and had passed us right by.
So the three of us bunked the night in Sequim, though it was quite the nightmare to find a place to stay. While Viera stayed in Port Angeles and Kristi and Garrett ahead in Quilcene at a church.
The next day we rode to Quilcene and met back up with Kristi and Garrett. It was our first day on the 101 and despite the lousy weather, we saw some amazing seaside scenery courtesy of the inlet we were following south. The road followed so close to the ocean that you could spray it with your water bottle should you feel so inclined. It was an interesting thought to have pacific ocean to the East of us, but if you regard a map you will notice the inlet makes its way south off of the Juan de Fuca Straight.
That night we stayed with a couple in Kristi, Garrett and I stayed with a couple in Quilcene named Todd and Vivvian, while the others stayed at Serendipity farms with Chris, who I am told made great Pesto sauce. Kristi Garrett and I enjoyed amazing homemade bread, a large pot of soup, and a warm fire place that I nested up to and embraced overnight after the cold day.
The next day we rode through Olympic National Park and saw our first real taste of snow sticking to the sides of the road. We nervously made our way up to the summit and then cautiously (but not too cautiously) made our way down the other side. We still followed the coast and the majestic 101 through many seaside communities advertising clams, oysters and other local seafood. I will have to make a point of trying some west coast seafood sometime soon, and Steve and I have been talking about figuring out how we can fish in a few places soon.
That night we stayed in Shelton with Allan and Donna, a warmshowers.org connection. They made us a big dish of spaghetti and showed us their amazing house and pictures of their cross country adventure, where they rode with their son on a tandem bike.
The next day we were up early and on our way down to Longview for the night. The morning started out beautiful for riding and lasted that way for all of 45 minuters before it started snowing on us. It was the really light, calm, Hollywood Christmas like snow, the nice kind that puts a smile on your face and brings back memories of childhood. Once again that lasted for about 45 minutes before the snow decided to really start falling on us. Between the weather and the most complicated and frustrating detour routes for cyclists I have encountered yet, we all got separated and ended up in different places for the night.
Chris and I ended up making it just north of Longview well after dark, to find Steve had got their ahead of us. We stayed with a man named Charlie, who was possibly the kindest person I have ever met. He did everything you could think of and more for us, and Steve and I ended up becoming quite good friends with us.
He owns an RV park called Toutle River RV, and if you are ever in the area, I recommend camping there because it would be one of the best times a family could share.
We ended up staying a few days with him, I came down with flu like symptoms for a few days and had some knee trouble.... plus it was nice to not ride in the 6 inches of snow on the roads.
He took us down to Portland to share Thanksgiving with his family, and we had so much fun with him that we plan to meet up again after the trip.
Steve and I are a little behind the rest of the group, so we are taking the night train down to Eugene to meet up with the group as we speak. I have some tough decisions to make about travelling regarding my knee, which is scaring me a little.
We will be getting into Aprovecho on Monday or Tuesday which is exciting for everyone. We will most likely be staying for a week, and I am really excited to find out what they are doing and document it.
Thanks for reading and sorry again for the delay. Please read the other two posts (one by Steve, the other by Chris). And as a side note on Chris, he returned home to Vancouver after his two weeks with the group.
After all the sky flashes, the great sea yearns,
We ourselves flash and yearn.
Lucas and the PEDAL team.
And one final note: because my camera broke, I am unable to post pictures of our trip at this time, however I really want to show you some cool pictures.... so the first five people to email info@pedalacrosstheamericas.com and tell me their address I will send a nice postcard to telling you of some of our awesome adventures. Please respond, thanks, Lucas.
Chris' time with the Bullocks Brothers
Hi everyone, Lucas here.. the following is the accounts of Chris' adventure with the team:
A Hippy for Four Days!
Viera & I are arriving at The Bullocks’ Brothers Permaculture Farm & Nursery long after their peak season for the year. During the Summer, there are about 20 interns and other assorted visitors from around the globe. My own impressions were coming to rest on the inspired notion that this was a very special place, seemingly imbued with the best intentions of back-to-the-landers and hippies from thirt years ago all the way up to the present day.
B-Brothers Sam & Doug truly look the part, wearing their slightly weather-beaten faces partly or covered in whole by salt n’ pepper beards. Jeans, flannel, fleece, caps and toques account for the rest of their typical garb for a life out-of-doors since they began husbandry over this land some thirty years ago. I hadn’t camped in a while, and I was taken aback by an interns advice that we take a sought-after camping spot beneath a huge spruce. Apparently, everyone had only moved back inside the several cabins onsite a few weeks before. I later on gazed in wide-eyed summer-camp satisfaction at the frame of a large tepee permanently staked into the ground, which is used a group gathering space and fire pit during the peak season. Some other first-impression detailing made themselves known, such as the unique composting outhouses, whose painted demeanor speaks of the unique personalities of their creators. I later found out that each of the eight or so outhouses gets moved after each of their respective pits is filled with human fertilizer for the gardens, easier than it would seem, since each one is only made of wood and bamboo-mat screens.
There are a number of greenhouses, the hub of human activity for cooking, meeting, and hanging out within the largest one with the most permanent moorings, which also serves as a sauna. I sampled the Sauna a couple of nights, wandering outside naked in the middle of the night without so much as a single goosebump from storing up so much heat in meditation beneath the cozy wooden walls.
As an aside, since I was on this sub-adventure with Viera away from the rest of the seven riders, I began to imagine the group and its activities as a living creature. I would later be mistaken, but at the time I imagined the two of us at the head of the creature, leading its head around with an adventure-carrot on a string to new and bizarre happenings, while Lucas resided in the infirmary-gut mending his sore knee, with the remainder of Kristi, Justin, and Garret at the tail-end, processing the creature’s food into blog-entries. Oh, and I guess Steve would be inhabiting one of the limbs, as he had been away as well, visiting friends on the other side of Victoria. What this analogy was intended to symbolize was that it’s still one group on a common mission, despite the wayward directions of its parts and the physical distances which sometimes form temporarily between them.
Saturdays’ work involved preparing recently cleared pond-front land for the growth of several non-native species of schrubs and trees, including Sechuan Peppers. Holes were dug with much humour and carrying on, then tree-cages were gathered, some additional chicken-wiring to protect from voles, and posts stuck in the ground for the tree-cages to hang on.
The second work day was for a totally different type of planting, the creation of holes with power-drills up the trunks of chopped birch logs for the insertion of mushroom mycelium plugs for the future growth of hopefully many upon many Shittake mushrooms.
We ate like land-kings & queens the whole time, the most memorable lunch was this day, a magnificent vegetable squash soap with leftover dahl from Sid inserted into fresh grilled-cheddar and sourdough sandwiches courtesy of Tatton.
In force here is the garden-forest type of plural culture, for there are many different types of plants growing here. There are a few dogs roaming the pathways between things, and many chickens behind their free-range fence.
From the B-Brothers Library, altered excerpts from ‘The Road Back to Nature’: The Author, of Japanese Origin, describes how Man should learn from the most short-lived creatures (the mayfly, for example, who dies after only three long days!) how to live, a day at a time, to our fullest, instead of dreading death, one hour at a time.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Before Leaving Canada
Before breaking through customs into the US, I was fortunate to connect with an old friend of mine Leah, and stay with her and her great housemates, Nishira and Suzanne. They live on the doorstep of the Pacific Ocean in Victoria, British Columbia.
One of The Oldest Sustainable Systems: The Ocean |
Crafty Plastic Bag-Drying Line |
Plastic bags + Ocean = Check Out 'The Great Pacific Garbage Patch’
The above two photos are of the Kimchi Leah and I prepared together. Good books for fermenting recipes are 'Wild Fermentation', by Sandor Ellix Katz, and 'Nourishing Traditions', by Sally Fallon.
Closet Full of Food |
Bulk foods and home-made preserves from fresh in-season local veggies and fruit make this home extra hype.
Leah has also been instrumental in a campaign to protect the wild forests of Cortez Island, British Columbia.
The Fundraiser CD is available through:
http://wildstands.bandcamp.com/album/wild-we-stand-
http://wildstands.bandcamp.com/album/wild-we-stand-
Major gratitude to Leah, Nishira, and Suzanne for hosting me. Major gratitude also to Jeremy and Steph in Vancouver, British Columbia, who kindly hosted me for a long time before Victoria.
Much love, Steve
Monday, November 15, 2010
Vagabonds in Vancouver and Victoria
Hello Everyone, Lucas here, writing from atop the Pacific Ocean!
We have made it to the West Coast, currently on a Ferry between the BC mainland and Vancouver Island.
We left Delta on Thursday, biking into the city. We crossed a giant bridge, loaded bumper to bumper with traffic (we walked the steeds across the bridge). Then Justin and Viera split off on an adventure to find a good bike trail, while Kristi, Garrett and I loosely followed the google map instructions we had to make it down to near Granville Island. We ended up taking a pretty busy road all the way through Vancouver, but it wasn’t as bad as we would have expected, and actually quite a bit of fun. Riding through such a big city always tends to take a lot of time, but you never seem to notice. We ended up meeting up with Steve (the newest member of the group) at his brother in law’s house near Granville. It was great to finally meet him, but we had to depart quickly, going up to a friend of Justin’s, named Arno. Kristi had to make a phone call so she went ahead, while Justin and Viera stayed to catch up with Steve. Garrett and I made our way towards Arno’s, when we stumbled across one of the most amazing things we have discovered so far on the trip: bike lanes. Vancouver has an amazing display of roads dedicated to cyclists all over the city. We were on a street with probably a hundred cyclists and it was an amazing feeling of community and excitement that we shared.
We settled in with Arno, his wife Jean, daughter Laura and son Ian, who were all incredibly hospitable to us. In the morning, Ian took Justin and I for an amazing adventure and tour of the downtown.
We started by going down to the Olympic Village (pretty dead and empty now).
We headed across a bridge and into downtown Vancouver. Ian had an Ipod and a set of speakers so we were rocking a combination of funk music, classic rock, and latin jazz as we cruised the busy streets. It all had a very urban feel to it, and we found ourselves full of energy as the rain held off for a little while.
We headed across a bridge and into downtown Vancouver. Ian had an Ipod and a set of speakers so we were rocking a combination of funk music, classic rock, and latin jazz as we cruised the busy streets. It all had a very urban feel to it, and we found ourselves full of energy as the rain held off for a little while.
We stopped at a music store downtown, and for the first time on the trip we were dwarfed by something other than mountains; skyscrapers of varying size and utility looming all around us.
Then we rode down through Hastings, which for anyone who knows the area (one of Canada’s most poverty ridden areas) was a bit of a culture shock for Justin and I. We walked our bikes up the street and talked about some of the challenges the area had, and mused about possible solutions.
Next we rode through Historic gas town, a ritzy area of town now (ironically only about a block from hastings.... what does that tell you?)
Then we rode down through Hastings, which for anyone who knows the area (one of Canada’s most poverty ridden areas) was a bit of a culture shock for Justin and I. We walked our bikes up the street and talked about some of the challenges the area had, and mused about possible solutions.
Next we rode through Historic gas town, a ritzy area of town now (ironically only about a block from hastings.... what does that tell you?)
We took a right turn from there and suddenly were at the Olympic torch right by the waterfront.
From there we followed the beautiful Urban coastline down into Stanley park. It started raining on us, but it was hardly a deterrent as we took the coastline trail, and took in the amazingly luscious sights.
From there we followed the beautiful Urban coastline down into Stanley park. It started raining on us, but it was hardly a deterrent as we took the coastline trail, and took in the amazingly luscious sights.
When we finished the trail we went back into the downtown core to dry off and grab some sushi for lunch. Then we headed over into Granville and back home. It was so stress free and fun, riding in a big city. I had such negative expectations on how riding in the city was, but with an amazing cyclist system it was the most fun riding I have had on the entire trip!
That evening Justin, Viera and I went to an event called Bike to Work Week. It was the last day of the week so they had a wrap up celebration in a park. It was interesting to see so many cyclists, some with disco lights, lasers and stereo systems all installed on their bikes. I seriously considered putting a radio on my bike after all the fun that we had with those bikes.
Then we all went out for some Ethiopian food to celebrate our arrival on the West Coast.
The next day we went for yet another ride, this time to U.B.C. to check out the beaches. We went with all of Arno’s family and it was yet another nice cycle (so much for taking a break from cycling, but it was just to nice).
We met many interesting people in Vancouver, and by the end of a couple days, it felt like a small community. I was really surprised by how intimate it felt. We ran into people we had just met in the city multiple times.
On Sunday Garrett and Kristi made their way out to the island to see Garrett’s family, while the rest of us waited two more days to get some stuff done in the city.
Finally, on Tuesday, Justin, Viera and I made our way out to the island. Steve was waiting one more day on some last minute supplies, but was going to ride out with Chris, a friend of Viera, who will be riding with us for a couple weeks.
Arno led us out to the sky train in the morning, and bid us adeiu. After that we rode the sky train over into Delta, then rode down some busy truck roads trying frantically to make the ferry in Tsawwassen in a torrential downpour. We were cutting it close with the wind in our face, biking like crazy to catch the ferry. I had a flat, so Justin and I sent Viera on ahead while we rapidly mended the flat, all while seconds ticked away in the back of our heads. We ended up repairing it in under five minutes, an impressive feat. We took no time to celebrate though, as we started tearing down the road for the ferry. I remember seeing a sign on the side of the road saying 13kms to the ferry terminal, then looking at my watch and seeing we had about 17 minutes. We would have to bike at about 50kms an hour, or have a small miracle to get on the ferry.
We put our heads down and raced into the wind like we had never raced before. I remember looking at my watch every once and again, and thinking “damn, were going fast”.
We ended up turning a corner to the ferry after about 8kms of straight fighting the wind down the highway, and suddenly the wind was at our backs and strong.
With the hope remained and we searched deep into ourselves for any remaining energy we had... and found it.
I was still thinking it was just too short of time to make it when an overhead sign announced that the ferry would be possibly delayed. This only added to our energy, and I was excited by the slight chance that we could make it within these near impossible time constraints.
We moved faster then I ever had before, and as we came around the corner we saw the last staight stretch to the ferry.
I would love to tell you that we made it onto that ferry. That we made an impossible distance in less time than it could rightly be done in. It would have made a great feel good story, and probably brightened some
hearts out there.
But the truth is, we were late. That ferry left without us. It meant we would be biking in the dark on the other side, from Sidney down into Victoria.
We could have been mad or upset, yet when the lady at the ticket booth told us we had missed the ferry, I was happy. We had tried our absolute best to get on that ferry. How could we be disappointed with that? We had pushed ourselves more than we ever had, and though we didn't achieve a goal that was most likely unreasonable, we pushed our boundaries more than we ever had, and in the process learned just how much we could really do... much more than we expected.
As good as that little revelation felt, it didn't change the fact that we were riding in the dark and rain on the other side.
Fortunately Garrett’s Cousin in Law came to the rescue. She drove up to Sidney and picked us and our gear up, while we left our bikes locked up in Sidney.
When we got to Taylor and Sue’s house, there was yet another amazing meal waiting for us. We feasted with Garrett’s family (his Uncle and Aunt also being there). It was really great to all meet up again, and share a warm house, warm laughter and warm food!
That evening Justin, Viera and I went to an event called Bike to Work Week. It was the last day of the week so they had a wrap up celebration in a park. It was interesting to see so many cyclists, some with disco lights, lasers and stereo systems all installed on their bikes. I seriously considered putting a radio on my bike after all the fun that we had with those bikes.
Then we all went out for some Ethiopian food to celebrate our arrival on the West Coast.
The next day we went for yet another ride, this time to U.B.C. to check out the beaches. We went with all of Arno’s family and it was yet another nice cycle (so much for taking a break from cycling, but it was just to nice).
We met many interesting people in Vancouver, and by the end of a couple days, it felt like a small community. I was really surprised by how intimate it felt. We ran into people we had just met in the city multiple times.
On Sunday Garrett and Kristi made their way out to the island to see Garrett’s family, while the rest of us waited two more days to get some stuff done in the city.
Finally, on Tuesday, Justin, Viera and I made our way out to the island. Steve was waiting one more day on some last minute supplies, but was going to ride out with Chris, a friend of Viera, who will be riding with us for a couple weeks.
Arno led us out to the sky train in the morning, and bid us adeiu. After that we rode the sky train over into Delta, then rode down some busy truck roads trying frantically to make the ferry in Tsawwassen in a torrential downpour. We were cutting it close with the wind in our face, biking like crazy to catch the ferry. I had a flat, so Justin and I sent Viera on ahead while we rapidly mended the flat, all while seconds ticked away in the back of our heads. We ended up repairing it in under five minutes, an impressive feat. We took no time to celebrate though, as we started tearing down the road for the ferry. I remember seeing a sign on the side of the road saying 13kms to the ferry terminal, then looking at my watch and seeing we had about 17 minutes. We would have to bike at about 50kms an hour, or have a small miracle to get on the ferry.
We put our heads down and raced into the wind like we had never raced before. I remember looking at my watch every once and again, and thinking “damn, were going fast”.
We ended up turning a corner to the ferry after about 8kms of straight fighting the wind down the highway, and suddenly the wind was at our backs and strong.
With the hope remained and we searched deep into ourselves for any remaining energy we had... and found it.
I was still thinking it was just too short of time to make it when an overhead sign announced that the ferry would be possibly delayed. This only added to our energy, and I was excited by the slight chance that we could make it within these near impossible time constraints.
We moved faster then I ever had before, and as we came around the corner we saw the last staight stretch to the ferry.
I would love to tell you that we made it onto that ferry. That we made an impossible distance in less time than it could rightly be done in. It would have made a great feel good story, and probably brightened some
hearts out there.
But the truth is, we were late. That ferry left without us. It meant we would be biking in the dark on the other side, from Sidney down into Victoria.
We could have been mad or upset, yet when the lady at the ticket booth told us we had missed the ferry, I was happy. We had tried our absolute best to get on that ferry. How could we be disappointed with that? We had pushed ourselves more than we ever had, and though we didn't achieve a goal that was most likely unreasonable, we pushed our boundaries more than we ever had, and in the process learned just how much we could really do... much more than we expected.
As good as that little revelation felt, it didn't change the fact that we were riding in the dark and rain on the other side.
Fortunately Garrett’s Cousin in Law came to the rescue. She drove up to Sidney and picked us and our gear up, while we left our bikes locked up in Sidney.
When we got to Taylor and Sue’s house, there was yet another amazing meal waiting for us. We feasted with Garrett’s family (his Uncle and Aunt also being there). It was really great to all meet up again, and share a warm house, warm laughter and warm food!
The next morning we all jumped into a couple of cars, and made our way over to Salt Spring Island, via another ferry.
It was the first beautiful day we had seen in a week, so we were basking in the glorious sun that had hid on us for so long. We stopped at a bakery off of the boat, and enjoyed the amazing culture that came with the island life.
After our breakfast we made our way into town for a full day of finding different individuals who were building different types of houses on the Island.
First we met with Andrew, who had built his house out of Hemp bale, and was powered entirely by solar off of his property. He also harnessed an amazing resource that we have been subjected to since we made it to the coast: rain!
He had enough storage to use only his water the entire year round. His home was also heated by trees on his own property, and with the thick hemp made walls, was very efficient.
Then we went to meet with a representative of Island pathways who explained to us the recent additions of pathways for cyclists around the Island.
Then we went to meet with a representative of Island pathways who explained to us the recent additions of pathways for cyclists around the Island.
Finally our last stop of the day was at an institution called Eco-Nest, an architect-builder team who worked together to make incredibly efficient, yet comfortable homes.
The whole day felt like a glimpse into our future as we enjoyed the novelty of warm weather by the sea. Who knows when we will get to that perpetual summer I have been dreaming about, but this was an incredible taste of what is to come!
We made our way back to the Ferry as the Sun started to go down. By this point we still have not fully realized that we are travelling over pacific water, it still seems like we are going across large inland lakes.
The next day was Remembrance day, and I took the opportunity to bike down to the legislative buildings to watch the Remembrance Day ceremonies. It was quite different from all the small town ceremonies I have been to in the past. Instead of 100 people there was thousands and thousands of people crowded upon the streets to remember the sacrifice of those who have left us. There were many soldiers and veterans, and it was quite the sight to see planes flying overhead and a naval ship firing the traditional twenty one gun salute.
The next day we packed up and left Sue and Taylor’s house. They had been such amazing hosts to us, and we were so thankful to be able to stay with them and talk about so many different things, while enjoying such amazing food.
That day Viera and Chris made their way over to Orcas Island to check out a Permaculture Institute, while the rest of us moved to our couchsurfer friends Mike and Josee’s house to work on our website.
As I write this we are all working towards getting our website content up and running. It has been a hard couple of days work, but I am so impressed by every ones hard work and determination to get meaningful content from across Canada up on the web.
As I write this we are all working towards getting our website content up and running. It has been a hard couple of days work, but I am so impressed by every ones hard work and determination to get meaningful content from across Canada up on the web.
We haven’t had much time to enjoy this beautiful city, which is too bad, but unfortunately we just have too much work to do right now.
And now for the injury report:
Viera and I have both been having some big knee problems lately (why is it always the knees). I went in to see a physiotherapist on Friday, which was helpful but a little disappointing as they mostly told me ways to treat the pain, not the actual issue itself. We have a lot of big riding to do through the states now for a while, so we will see how the knees treat us.
Viera and I have both been having some big knee problems lately (why is it always the knees). I went in to see a physiotherapist on Friday, which was helpful but a little disappointing as they mostly told me ways to treat the pain, not the actual issue itself. We have a lot of big riding to do through the states now for a while, so we will see how the knees treat us.
Sorry to all for a lengthy wait on the update, I will keep them regular through the next little while. If you havent done so, please read the Blog Garrett wrote just a couple days ago, it has some really amazing things.
And now for the most exciting news of all:
The Garden content of our website is finally operational and has some articles posted through our mediawiki.
The crew has been working hard trying to get this working with our website and I am super impressed at our ability to figure these difficult technological problems out.
Please check out our web site and see the new additions.
Thanks for reading again, Lucas and the PEDAL team!
and like usual a little teaser at the bottom:
and like usual a little teaser at the bottom:
You want us to feel better
On these darker trails
With the light revealing holy grails
To hike through dangerous weather
You need twilight eyes
Guided by Voices, "Twilight Campfighter"
Saturday, November 13, 2010
At The Edge
Garrett here, writing from the western edge of the continent! A few more kilometres east of here, actually, and I'd be sitting soggy in the Pacific. Yes -- after 5500 km of cycling, we're in Victoria! For those keeping track, this marks the completion of the first third of our tour.
It's probably redundant to explain just how much of a milestone this is to me -- the opportunity to visit long-unseen family and to reconnect with west-rooted friends, the finale of our Canadian trek, the exploration of a sudden and surprising coastal ecosystem, the chance for a great deal of reflection, and the addition of our newest tour member, Steve O'Brien -- so I won't elaborate. I will, however, mention the surprise with which our arrival sunk in.
Justin and I were cycling from North Delta, southeast of Vancouver proper, north to Burnaby to check out Canada's largest allotment community garden (it was big). As we crossed the Pattullo Bridge (the cheerfully-orange but hyper-trafficked twin to Ontario's Skyway), one of Vancouver's iconic robotic SkyTrains cruised over a towering concrete suspension bridge beside us towards a congregation of high-rises to the west.
With rumbling trucks, blaring horns, and choking exhaust fumes accompanying us over this bridge to a shiny blue-glass tower horizon, I felt as though I were moving into some over-stimulating futurescape amusement park. The mountain towns, tamarack stands, and cedar groves of the past several weeks hadn't prepared me very well for this populous profusion of people or the associated smells and sounds. It was while I was watching the SkyTrain head for those skyscrapers that I really appreciated the significance of our situation. This was the edge. The river below us? It became salt water in a few scant kilometres. I recalled seeing a sign in northern Ontario indicating that Wawa was only 180 km away, and I remember thinking, "Golly, we're really out there, and we've come all this way on our bikes! I mean, gosh, Wawa!"
To tell the truth, the distance between here and Wawa doesn't seem any more significant than the distance between Wawa and home. I can vividly recall the mountain passes, the thrilling descents, the cold mornings, the sunny days, the rainy days, the furious headwinds, and the innumerable warm people of our journey thus far, and it all feels like a logical progression. Having reached the coast doesn't suddenly make everything that came before an "endeavour"; the endeavour has grown each day, and in most cases it's been as understated as just about "day in the life" scenario. But our arrival here helps turn all those experiences into a tidy "past," and the future feels embodied in a cardinal direction: South. In a few days, we'll be crossing the Canada-U.S. border and hitting the pavement in Washington!
Backtracking now a little: in getting this far, I've been biking through surreality. On descending into the Okanagan Valley towards Osoyoos... well, it's not that the sight is unprecedented in its drama; it isn't the highest, the steepest, the most vast, the most lush, or the most stark landscape. It is, however, unprecedented in its character. The hills in the valley are undulating in gentle, irregular slopes. The mist among the slopes is very disperse, more like a broad, fine veil than a discrete body of vapour -- transluscent and homogeneous, I suppose. It gives the light passing through it a very unusual and beautiful quality as the sun penetrates in ghostly shafts.
Farther down, the descent becomes one of the most dramatic of any: the most immediately thrilling and impressive (considering the impression it left on me) experience yet. The city of Osoyoos opens quite suddenly to our front-right as the valley expands upon passing a rise in the terrain. A lake swells to fill my vision south of the city, far below on my left.
The road down to the city concedes completely to the landscape in a way that is nowhere near so evident anywhere else we've been. The hard petroleum line traces the top of a sinuous, descending ridge stretching out before us; out of necessity, the road follows the shape of the hills precisely. No straight lines, no great gashes through the hills, no elevated causeways. The ridge switches back on itself repeatedly in graceful curves, and the speed with which I ride its back should demand my full attention -- but I'm stunned by a scene that reanimates often in my memory.
Justin is perhaps six or seven hundred metres ahead of me, and he's barreling around a switchback beyond which the ridge drops precipitously to the valley bottom. I know he's moving fast -- 50 km/hr or more -- but to me, he's moving in slow motion. It's the landscape behind him... it's so vast. It's so deep below us, I realize with a rush, and it stretches far off towards the horizon behind Justin. Whereas many vistas become subtle and understated as they recede towards the edge of perception, this valley celebrates its enormity. It just keeps going, off into the distance. The slopes are shimmering with golden grasses and musty purple shrubs, and the dry vegetation accentuates the land's stoney complexion.
So, I have this image of Justin careening around this switchback, and his size and speed are dwarfed -- overwhelmed -- by the world around us. The Okanagan is the northernmost extension of an arid stretch originating in the Mojave Desert, so if this landscape is a precursor of the US southwest, our new southward orientation holds a great deal of promise.
:)
To tell the truth, the distance between here and Wawa doesn't seem any more significant than the distance between Wawa and home. I can vividly recall the mountain passes, the thrilling descents, the cold mornings, the sunny days, the rainy days, the furious headwinds, and the innumerable warm people of our journey thus far, and it all feels like a logical progression. Having reached the coast doesn't suddenly make everything that came before an "endeavour"; the endeavour has grown each day, and in most cases it's been as understated as just about "day in the life" scenario. But our arrival here helps turn all those experiences into a tidy "past," and the future feels embodied in a cardinal direction: South. In a few days, we'll be crossing the Canada-U.S. border and hitting the pavement in Washington!
Backtracking now a little: in getting this far, I've been biking through surreality. On descending into the Okanagan Valley towards Osoyoos... well, it's not that the sight is unprecedented in its drama; it isn't the highest, the steepest, the most vast, the most lush, or the most stark landscape. It is, however, unprecedented in its character. The hills in the valley are undulating in gentle, irregular slopes. The mist among the slopes is very disperse, more like a broad, fine veil than a discrete body of vapour -- transluscent and homogeneous, I suppose. It gives the light passing through it a very unusual and beautiful quality as the sun penetrates in ghostly shafts.
Farther down, the descent becomes one of the most dramatic of any: the most immediately thrilling and impressive (considering the impression it left on me) experience yet. The city of Osoyoos opens quite suddenly to our front-right as the valley expands upon passing a rise in the terrain. A lake swells to fill my vision south of the city, far below on my left.
The road down to the city concedes completely to the landscape in a way that is nowhere near so evident anywhere else we've been. The hard petroleum line traces the top of a sinuous, descending ridge stretching out before us; out of necessity, the road follows the shape of the hills precisely. No straight lines, no great gashes through the hills, no elevated causeways. The ridge switches back on itself repeatedly in graceful curves, and the speed with which I ride its back should demand my full attention -- but I'm stunned by a scene that reanimates often in my memory.
Justin is perhaps six or seven hundred metres ahead of me, and he's barreling around a switchback beyond which the ridge drops precipitously to the valley bottom. I know he's moving fast -- 50 km/hr or more -- but to me, he's moving in slow motion. It's the landscape behind him... it's so vast. It's so deep below us, I realize with a rush, and it stretches far off towards the horizon behind Justin. Whereas many vistas become subtle and understated as they recede towards the edge of perception, this valley celebrates its enormity. It just keeps going, off into the distance. The slopes are shimmering with golden grasses and musty purple shrubs, and the dry vegetation accentuates the land's stoney complexion.
So, I have this image of Justin careening around this switchback, and his size and speed are dwarfed -- overwhelmed -- by the world around us. The Okanagan is the northernmost extension of an arid stretch originating in the Mojave Desert, so if this landscape is a precursor of the US southwest, our new southward orientation holds a great deal of promise.
:)
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Its a warm wind
Hi Folks, Lucas here yet again, and like always hoping you are all doing great.
We have been quite busy over the last few days, unfortunately my camera’s batteries are dead, so until tomorrow when I can buy some new ones you will have to just imagine what we have been doing.
We left the beautiful town of Hope, (and I do mean beautiful). It is nestled in the coastal mountains like a baby in a crib; the steep peaks towering around the entire city. We left on Sunday morning heading west, roughly following the mighty Fraser River. It was a nice Halloween day and we managed to not get rained on.
Perhaps because it was Halloween or perhaps because it was just convenient, Kristi, Garrett and I had lunch in an interesting old graveyard on the side of the highway.
We were headed to a friend of Kristi, Garrett and Justin who lives just south of Chilliwack in an area called Ryder Lake. We didn’t end up getting there until way after dark. We thought we had put mountains behind us for at least a few weeks but we ended up pushing our bikes up a steep mountain road in the dark. Couple that with no lighting, many recent cougar sightings, a bit of fog, and Hallows eve, it is probably safe to say we were a little spooked. We made it to Gina’s eventually however, and she had some dinner waiting, and was very kind to all of us. We stayed up late talking and laughing, all while a huge storm was being unleashed outside.
The next morning we slept in, and relaxed with Gina. Then Justin, Viera and I saddled up and rode down the mountain and west to a place called Yarrow Eco-Village. The folks there were very kind and on the account that it was raining torrentially outside we helped out doing indoor volunteering instead, which was much appreciated. We ended up setting up our tents in an old barn there.
I was fortunate to meet up with an old friend, and he brought us some fresh vegetables which we used to make a delicious dinner with Anne, the lady who had invited us into her home at the village. Kristi and Garrett arrived right at dinner, and we all felt bad for them as they had rode through very high winds and a huge downpour of rain.
That night my friend Pete, and one of the inhabitants of the village JoƩ, stayed up late talking about his plan to rid the local stream of invasive plants. It was a very elaborate plan, and it made me appreciate the huge amount of science and planning that goes into even a small area of forest/stream reconstruction.
The next day it was as if a storm had never passed as the sky was blue and beautiful. I even found myself taking off my sweater for the first time in my B.C. portion of the trip.
Anne gave us a tour of the Eco-Village and we video taped a few interesting things. Look for it soon under the garden section of our website: http://pedalacrosstheamericas.com/index.html/the%20garden.html
And a related note is that we will be in Victoria within the week, where we will be finally be editing and posting all of the interesting things we have seen across Canada on our website. We are really excited to share some of our experiences with you, so please check that out in a week or so.
After the tour we left for Delta, BC which is just across a branch of the Fraser River from Vancouver.
We left just before lunch, Viera, Justin and I taking old farming roads, while Kristi and Garrett jumped onto the Trans-Canada and then the Fraser Highway. Justin, Viera and I got to see some amazingly beautiful country but ended up changing our route quite a bit, which pretty much automatically resulted in us getting lost coming into Delta. We ended up doing a lot of city night biking which isn’t fun, but fortunately Delta has a pretty impressive bike system (lots of bike lanes and bike routes). We arrived at my Aunt Joan and Uncle Larry’s house and were thankful to enjoy an amazing meal with many fresh vegetables from their backyard garden.
Today we are going to a large Community Garden, armed with our video camera, so look for that in the next week or so.
Our current plan is to stay in Vancouver for at least a couple days, then head out to the Island and get our work done before we head south into the states and (hopefully) perpetual winter.
We are absolutely blessed with another warm, sunny day today, which is apparently pretty rare for the coast.
Thanks to everyone who voted for us on www.youth4sustainability.com. The voting is now closed, but we are happy for all the support, and excited to see the outcome. We will keep you posted as we hear more about it.
We have had our first visions of the coast last night, just as the sun was setting. It feels like we have accomplished something amazing, and we are still so early in on our journey.
One of the most important parts of this trip is to show the public what we have been learning, and we are all very excited to be organizing and sorting that information out in the next few weeks and presenting it to you. Please ask lots of questions if you have them; which reminds me, our forums are now up and running at http://pedalacrosstheamericas.com/index.html/forum.html. Please sign up and join our forums. I hope that it can become an interesting area of discussing, debate and most importantly sharing. It is void of content right now, but look for it within the next couple of weeks to start up. Feel free to post and add interesting things yourself.
Once again, thank you very much for reading and take care out there.
For a while, Viera and I were memorizing poems on the road to share.
I memorized this one and found myself saying it often when thinking ahead to the west coast (and also home in Rossland).
I find it particularly fitting today so I will share it with you if you have the time:
It's a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries;
I never hear the west wind but tears are in my eyes.
For it comes from the west lands, the old brown hills.
And April's in the west wind, and daffodils.
It's a fine land, the west land, for hearts as tired as mine,
Apple orchards blossom there, and the air's like wine.
There is cool green grass there, where men may lie at rest,
And the thrushes are in song there, fluting from the nest.
"Will ye not come home brother? ye have been long away,
It's April, and blossom time, and white is the may;
And bright is the sun brother, and warm is the rain,--
Will ye not come home, brother, home to us again?
"The young corn is green, brother, where the rabbits run.
It's blue sky, and white clouds, and warm rain and sun.
It's song to a man's soul, brother, fire to a man's brain,
To hear the wild bees and see the merry spring again.
"Larks are singing in the west, brother, above the green wheat,
So will ye not come home, brother, and rest your tired feet?
I've a balm for bruised hearts, brother, sleep for aching eyes,"
Says the warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries.
It's the white road westwards is the road I must tread
To the green grass, the cool grass, and rest for heart and head,
To the violets, and the warm hearts, and the thrushes' song,
In the fine land, the west land, the land where I belong.
John Masefield
Thanks for Reading, Lucas and the PEDAL team.
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