i get tired now. i didn't use to get tired.

"belief is an intellectual process. faith involves action."- prophet omega

a steel monster with shimano gearing

the year is 1974 summer, i believe. this would be the summer before i met d. although i have no time-line connection between those events in my mind. i had to talk dad into it and most likely the 'i'm sixteen now' arguement came into play. he finally agreed but he still felt compelled to tell me all the horrible things people could do to you by the side of the road.  

the plan was to ride through southern and eastern oregon, to boise idaho and back, possibly looping through bend on the way home. why boise was my my target then, i'm not sure. never was except that it was a place far away that i had never been to. also, i had expectations about the snake river gorge, which turned out to be a routine river crossing. 

my bike was a steel monster from penny's with shimano gearing. your typical '70's ten-speed. i loaded it with a rack, and also carried a pack on my back with way too much stuff in it. the hatchet? come on. 

 

so there i was...early summer, my bike and my stuff. that's all you need, right? i was off. i headed east on highway 140 out the olene gap, which i remember passing still being a little cold in the morning. over the tracks, past the little park on lost river, and on. 

let me look at the map...yes, past dairy, a store and gas station town. i don't remember much of that stretch until i got to beatty, where i stopped for a soda. it had warmed up and i was ready for a drink. beatty had this reputation for being a tough little town. full of indians. and cowboys. sure enough as i came out of the store i met this indian with tattoos on his forehead, or maybe tears from his eyes. we talked for a minute, probably about my trip. i remember being a little scared, but it was perfectly fine; i rode on. 

bly mountain was the first big hill- between beatty and bly i think although i don't see it on the map. i guess i made it over the hill with relative ease; i would remember if it was a killer. i cruised through bly past the lumber mill; i don't remember stopping. the map shows quartz mtn. and drew's gap summits but all i clearly recall is cruising a long straight road into lakeview at the end of the day. 

i remember eating at a dairy queen type of place and getting a hotel room for the night. the people working there thought it was wierd for someone to ride up on a bike and ask for a room.  i had to give them the serial nummer on my bike in lieu of a license plate number. i got the room . i was tired, but not dead tired; i had gotten a lot of sun. i called home and checked in with the folks. day one was over. 

the next day i cruised away north on 395 out of town. it was cold again. at valley falls i stayed right at the junction. the alkali flats and abert rim came into view ahead, with the rim a striking feature on the right, thrust up next to the lake. i remember feeling good in the cool morning air. getting past the rim, the scenery changed. desert. lots of desert. an undulating road with almost no traffic. i rode for miles with no hands, singing david bowie songs. lots and lots of sand, sage and juniper. 

the next thing i recall is the town of wagontire which i remember only as a store/ garage. i got a soda, rested a while, then rode on. i felt pretty good. to finish the day, i cruised into the town of riley at the junction with hwy. 20.

riley was, and probably still is a store and an rv park at the junction. no motel, and a chance to use all that camping gear i'd been hauling around. i bought food at the store and asked about camping; the people said it was ok, but i don't think i had to pay for a spot. i set up my camp; my pup tent and sleeping bag and crawled in for the night.

it was windy and quite cold that night and i remember hearing lots of coyotes howling loudly. i felt like i was a long way from home right then. 

the next morning i felt stiff and sore from sleeping on the ground, something i wasn't used to at the time. i was off again. all i remember of that morning is cruising into the town- city by eastern oregon standards- of burns. i'd get to know burns much better... anyway, i stopped in town for breakfast at a cafe. the town seemed busy; maybe because the day before was so quiet and still. i headed off again after eating. i clearly recall that dead-straight highway lined with power poles. it went on forever, vanishing into the desert. there was a headwind and i was feeling tired already. the straight stuff ended only to take me over two consecutive passes; stinkingwater pass then drinkwater pass. oddly named, there's no water in sight. 

it was getting hot. this would be the hardest day of the trip by far. it was really a struggle getting up over the hills; i may have pushed my bike up over one section. i remember being really, really tired. it was  probably the most strenuous day of my life by the time it was over. i remember cruising downhill after drinkwater pass. it felt great. i passed the sign marking the time zone change, then cruised into juntura a few miles later.

the town had a small motel, gas and store; the usual. i think it was getting late by the time i got there-i remember the sun going down. i talked to dad in the phone booth for a bit, then pulled my bike into the room and went to bed.

day four. the map shows the road following the malheur river although i don't remember any of it. in fact i have little memory of this day until  reaching the idaho border. i was excited about reaching my goal. i crossed the snake on a small bridge- it's not a canyon at that point-and smiled. i felt free. 

shortly i came to the freeway; i-80 and no bikes allowed. i had to go around. checked the map and found a way not to boise, but to the suburb of caldwell. close enough. i got a motel room and then some food. i felt excited and a bit confused. it seemed like just a city; only special because it marked the far point in the journey. a bit of an anti-climax maybe, but there was plenty of road ahead of me.  

i hung out the next day mostly at the motel. i wanted to stay off the bike if possible. i went swimming at the pool later on. there was a group of young adults there, who chatted with me a bit. i wound up feeling self-conscious about being alone and left for my room shortly. i gathered my things for the return trip, to begin the next day.

now, my bike had been holding up well on the trip so far. the tires were beginning to show some wear, no doubt because of all the extra weight. anyway, i left the motel in caldwell retracing my steps-pedals?- for the first time. i had sent a letter to my friend dave; sort of to prove that i had made it, and i was wondering if i would get home before it arrived. how was i to know...

i crossed back into oregon, making good time with a tailwind, when my rear tire blew out. shit! i stopped to make repairs. it was still early and i was in a hurry to get on. i remember getting frustrated with the amount of stuff i'd brought as i unpacked it to fix the tire. my mind was racing... i got the new tube set up on the rim, then grabbed my pump. i began pumping furiously when the plunger stuck and the pump folded in half. i stared in disbelief at the broken pump in my hands. i was too far away from any town to walk. it was like a dream. all i could think to do was stand by the road with my thumb out and hitch. cars passed me by. i wasn't panicked but very concerned. 

shortly, a vw van pulled over. a woman in her twenties got out and i explained my situation. she was very friendly and offered me a ride. before i knew it, i was loading my crippled bike into the van and off we went. her name i don't remember but she was young and i thought she was pretty. all i remember anout her was that she was a school teacher. she was headed back down 395, the way i'd just come, then south from lakeview. i figured i'd get out there and try to get back to klamath.

it was an interesting ride. for the first time on the trip, i had someone to talk to; company. i don't remember what we said. pretty soon, we pulled over for a break. she had some food and we ate. i remember standing behind her watching her lean forward into the van while she fixed my sandwich. i looked at her body, but then felt a little guilty; i was so shy...we cruised the rest of the way into lakeview. 

she dropped me in a park in the middle of town. i was unsure what to do. she said she was sorry that she couldn't take me any farther toward home, but she had to go. i said thanks and we parted ways. a ride from a woman, wow. 

i remember feeling confused, then calling home. i can't recall if they offered or i asked, but a ride was arranged. i killed time by hanging out in the park with my flat tire bike and pile of stuff. finally the folks arrived. mom and dad to the rescue. they seemed to be in pretty good spirits, considering. so, the bike went in the trunk and off we went home. 

so the trip didn't go according to plan, but i considered it a success and still do. i gained a strength and confidence in myself that wasn't all there before. i had covered a lot of ground. i was young and strong. 

 

yes, it's working out well; giselle was kind enough to take us in. it's an ideal situation, i must admit. normandy is so beautiful... when the fog is lingering in the mornings we walk the beaches and pray for the lost souls. afternoons we bicycle or walk in the meadows above the bluffs. the wildflowers are incredible. if we have a concert in the evening we walk to the cathedral to play; a night off we spend on the veranda watching the sea. the days here have a special quality; though they are few indeed there is a sense of timelessness so pervasive you could lose yourself easily and completely. one day following another so logically and perfectly...maybe it's always that way, and we just don't notice it. but i would have to say that if god has created a heaven on earth, then we have somehow found it.

happy birthday winona j. my beautiful daughter and soon-to-be world famous artist. nine in '09. love you so much sweetie. 

ascension

rising star

   full of life. you are

   born of light. you are

   full of life, you are.

  split the night you rising star

rising star

  leave this night. you are

  to make this flight. you are

  born of light, you are.

  split the night you rising star

rising star

  ending life. you are

  born of light. you are

  full of life, you are. 

  split the night you rising star

for f.e. holmes

"you are what you believe you are"- prophet omega

the guitar had a multitude of strings stretching out infinitely in each direction. some were as fine as human hairs, others as thick as tree trunks. i reached out to grab at them as i fell past but the vibrations threw me back spinning. from one to the next i bounced creating a loud  crisp note painfully high to impossibly low in a jangled discord of sound my rubbery body the plectrum sounding out a mad symphony. i fell past the strings still ringing out. there was nothing. i heard the sounds and the space between the notes leap out. the music receded. only punctuations in the silence. 

early 1976, recalled 25 nov. '99 journal entry excerpted and/ or modified.

...i'm pretty sure that i made it all the way to san francisco. now, this was epic; alone, eighteen years old, dropped off in the middle of the city, totally clueless.

i realised that i was never going to get out of town before dark. luckily, i got dropped off by golden gate park and i found a large clump of bushes that could afford some cover for the night. it was dark at this point, so i could slip under the bushes, get out my sleeping bag, and crash unseen. i was gripped; not knowing if i'd get arrested, assaulted, or what. but i'd chosen a good spot and slept undisturbed all night. i woke up early and got my stuff together before anybody saw me. 

the weather was clearing up. it was sunny and i felt good, but i was anxious to find my way out to the coast and the highway south. it was quite a ways to the highway, and i remember getting on a city bus to expedite the process. i think i got off the bus when the ocean came into view. i simply turned left and started walking south. i remember passing some basketball courts. nobody was playing; it was early and i seemed to have the place to myself. i felt alone but confident and happy. i was learning to calmly navigate the unfamiliar; to let the world go by for a few moments while you do what needs to be done- a skill i would later hone to perfection in australia. it was still the middle of town and i must have stuck out my thumb, lacking any other options, and got out of town with relative ease. 

the weather was fine. at last, the rainy weather was behind me for a while. i don't recall specific rides, but i remember standing by the side of the road in watsonville ( castroville? )- artichoke capitol of the world, and then cruising through the town of carmel.

 my destination was drawing near. i got picked up by two pretty girls in a mustang convertible.i could not believe my luck.  they were mid-20's and very friendly. my hair was getting blown around wildly so they gave me a rubber band to tie it back with. they were rock climbers and they described their hobby to me. we smoked one as we cruised south on the highway, and they dropped me off right at the trail head. it was one of my best rides of the entire trip.

so there i was. i got my things in order and headed up the trail, stopping to smell some wildflowers on the way. it was about mid-day and i was feeling great. i wound my way up the canyon of the big sur river...