3/21/18 - Remembering, Reflecting, Rewriting

It’s been more than a year since my cross-country bicycle journey came to an end.  I still remember waking up for the last time in Joshua Tree National Park.  Covered in a blanket of gray clouds, the sun was not there to greet us like she usually was.  It was by far the dreariest day I had seen in my month of staying in the park, a sign that our plan to leave that day was the right choice.  

Vinny and I crawled up off the ground and sleepily started packing up.  When the first few rain drops fell, we started moving much more quickly.  Driving out of the park for the last time was an emotional experience that the heavy wind and rain emphasized quite nicely in a sad sort of way.  Our 2.5 day drive to Austin, Texas had begun.  From there, Vinny would travel South to Mexico and I would fly home to Massachusetts.  

I was truly excited at the time, I had accomplished what I set out to do and the most rational thing next was to go home and process everything that had occurred.  At the point of walking through my front door for the first time in 7 months, everything I had seen and done on my journey was such a blur, a long strip of film balled up and stuffed in a box in a drawer in a desk in my head.  But now, more and more, I can simply close my eyes and find myself reliving all the little moments of my trip in great detail: the feeling of crossing into New York realizing I wouldn’t be back in Massachusetts for a long time; rolling over the hills lined with corn in Illinois and Iowa; the subtle shifts in the landscape once I entered South Dakota; the moment I saw the Pacific Ocean in Oregon and all the miles I rode next to that great expanse of blue all the way down to SoCal.  I’m still transported when I listen to music I heard on the seat of my bike and just the smell of peanut butter brings me back inside my tent where I ate many sandwiches topped with m&m’s or trail mix.

It’s almost eerie in a way to be able to jump back in time with such clarity by a sound or smell or simple thought.  I can understand how soldiers coming back from war find it difficult or impossible to return to civilian life.  At least my trip was a positive experience.  And its positive effects on my life seem to be getting clearer and clearer.  Since I’ve been home, all I’ve been doing with my time is making art.  Lots of images just came out of me as I was trying to get back in the habit of drawing and learning how to use watercolor.  I just wanted to make pictures.  But now, a year into making art full time and rewriting my artist’s statement for maybe the fourth time, I finally see how much that bike trip has influenced my life and how much of painting is processing the memories and emotions experienced on that ride.

It’s hard to remember what life was like before I left for the West coast, it really is.  My life was a certain way for so long and having such an intense experience makes me feel like a different person now.  Maybe it’s just that some part of me is more alive.  After graduating college I did not have the same dedication to studio time as I did when I was a student.  In fact, I felt devoid of all ideas, direction, and inspiration, lost in the act of “trying to make a living” through an unsatisfying job.  After a few years, I didn’t quite know what I wanted, I just knew I didn’t want what I had.  And so began the planning for the trip of a lifetime.  I pulled a U-turn on the dead end road I was driving down; or maybe I just parked the car and left in the opposite direction on my bike.

All I know now is the act of making art is an attempt to portray the power of the journey, the spiritual evolution that can occur in a person when they give in to the unknown and allow it to guide them.  Without my cross-country ride, I don’t think my life would be the way it is now, pursuing a career in art, full of fire and inspiration, a healthy relationship with myself and a wonderful relationship with a man I love that’s been blossoming almost since I came home.  A lot of great things can happen when we make the changes we feel are necessary in our lives.  However, a lot of tension and anxiety can build and consume us if we don’t go after the things our heart truly wants.  You might not know what you want but, acknowledging you have something you don’t want can be the first step of a new and exciting journey.

What follows is the latest concoction of words I’ve used to describe my intentions in making the art that I am making, thanks for reading:

A journey begins with a conscious decision to stray from the path that we tread every day, a willingness to encounter the unknown and allow it to guide us in hopes of discovering a better understanding of life and ourselves.  I once felt trapped by the decisions I had made and in trying to work my way out, everything changed.  Life seemed to unfold before me in ways I had never experienced or imagined possible and I portray the feeling of liberation and continuous mystery of life in my art.

My paintings depict figures wandering through dramatic and colorful landscapes often pulled from my imagination based on memories and emotions felt on my own journey.  The inhabitants of my images are often a smaller part of the composition which gives the environment it’s own presence and power over the figure.  Humans aren’t as dominant in the world as we like to believe, there are forces much greater than us and we can see evidence of that in all the diverse and dynamic landscapes Mother Nature has shaped.

I want the viewer to feel small, like standing on top of a mountain or at the roots of a mighty redwood; the same feeling you have in your gut when you realize you’ve never been so far away from home and suddenly you get a sense of your scale: a tiny spec, untethered, roaming across a world that, by chance, came to be and has existed for what seems like an infinite amount of time and will outlive us for even longer.

Jump to my Gallery or Website to see or read more.

Day 71 - 8/17/16 Crowheart to Dubois, WY (Shoshone National Forest)

Crowheart to Dubois is only 30 miles.  It was a windy 30 miles but I kept telling myself, 'don't rush, take your time.'  When the wind is pushing against you, pushing back only makes the wind push harder; there is a happy medium, it's not very fast but, it doesn't kill you.  

After picking up my new bike chain that mom mailed to me from the post office and after I got some donuts, I left Dubois for the second leg of my ride today.  Tomorrow I'll be in Grand Teton National Park and to get there I have to ride about 65 miles through Shoshone National Forest.

 I saw on the map a lodge/general store 20 miles past Dubois, perfect for filling up water then finding a place to camp.  The forest is gorgeous.  Wyoming is finally changing for the better from barren grasslands to breathtaking mountains with dense forests and lakes and rivers running through it all.  At the Lava Mountain Lodge I parked myself out front to charge my devices when a couple more bikers, fully loaded, came rolling in. 

 

Not 10 minutes later, another couple of bikers came in from the other direction.  Nick and Gavin, probably mid to late 20's, just like me, are doing the Great Divide trail, riding from South to North.  The other couple who's names I did not get were going North to South with their 1 year old in a trailer on the back.  They must've been from France considering they were speaking French with a little bit of English to say Hello anyways.  

Nick and Gavin took off, heading in the direction I'd soon be following; the French family got a cabin for the night and I was by myself again.  Another 10 minutes goes by and sure enough, 2 more bikers are coming from the North part of the Great Divide trail heading South.  This couple is from Alaska.  They just sold all their stuff, bought a place in Arizona, and took off on their bikes.  They just wanted to try something new, they told me.  

I can understand that.  They got a room at the lodge too, maybe they'll ride with the Frenchies tomorrow, that's always fun.  I didn't linger much longer after that.  The campground I had in mind was 3 miles away so I trudged further into the forest.  This place is beautiful, nature is beautiful. I'll just have to leave it at that 'til tomorrow.

Day 59 - 8/5/16 Wanblee to Interior, SD - Badlands National Park

Yesterday being such a good ride, I didn't even think today could be better but, it was.  Another early and chilly start to the day was shared with all the dogs that just wander and bark around Wanblee.  There were 3 or 4 dogs keep us company at the park while Derek and I got ready, taking note of the visibility of our breath. 

 

It was barely 30 miles to Interior and just beyond the halfway point the road turned to the North, we climbed a hill and from there we could see the otherworldly rock formations of Badlands in the distance.  I couldn't help but laugh with excitement going down the hills heading into town, I've never seen anything like this before.  Experiencing things like this is food for the mind.  

To bear witness to new landscapes and terrain and even dangera adds so much to the reservoir of thoughts, emotions and memories inside your head.  Never having traveled much in my 26 years on this planet, a simple experience like visiting Badlands National Park makes me wonder what else will blow my mind out there.  

I left Derek in Interior and rode a couple more miles to the campground on the Eastern side of the park.  I couldn't wait to explore more so once my tent was set up, I took the bags off my bike, filled up my water and took Ginger into the park. 

 

Riding and walking among these towers of rock was like visiting the ancient ruins of a cathedral crafted by the delicate yet forceful hands of nature.  After riding around for a bit I decided it was time to go back to the site for some food.  

It wasn't long before I went back out on a different road to find a spot to watch the sunset.  Morning and evening are the 2 most beautiful times of day for the softer light changes the colors of everything and gives it a soft glow.  

There's too much beauty here, it's a little overwhelming, kind of like my visit to the museum in Chicago.  You can't see everything in one visit – kind of like life but, see what you can and let it change you.

Day 56 - 8/2/16 Burke to Witten, SD

I'm so excited to get to the Badlands.  Most people I meet tell me I'm going to love it.  I already know I am.  I'm just looking forward to seeing some other terrain besides big, open spaces.  I want some hills and mountains to break up the monotony of seeing the same thing for 50 miles.  

I'm sure I'll be regretting this wish in a couple weeks but, big hills are inevitable on this trip, especially in the Western half of the country.  I'm also excited for the Badlands because I know seeing some dramatic, beautiful nature is going to get my blood pumping.  There's not much excitement in these big green fields after a couple weeks of riding through them.  Change is good and it is just on the horizon.  

I really love ending each day in a new little town.  There aren't many streets in Witten and it doesn't look like any of them are paved.  I wonder if there are any kids in this town.  There's a slide and a swingset at the park and that's all there is.  I heard these towns have a downside to them too, even beyond the fact that there's not many forms of entertainment.  I met a cool dude named Casey last night before I went to bed.  

He loves living in Burke, hanging out with his dogs and girlfriend in his yard, gardening and just enjoying the sound of his sprinkler watering his vegetables.  But, they both said people in small towns know everything about you, both good and bad.  

Seems like there's the potential for some high tension and drama that you canmg escape just by going home.  I still think there's a lot of rewards for living so simply, I'd definitely like to try spending more than a night in one of these little towns.

Day 55 - 8/1/16 Pickstown to Burke, SD

I stayed in a hotel last night and left at 6:00am to beat the heat.  It was already warm and humid before the sun came out so I thought I was going to be in a sweaty situation once it got later but, the heat never came.  If anything, it just got cloudier and cooler as the morning went on.  

Since I got to South Dakota, I've been noticing sunflowers growing on the side of the road.  They look just like the ones we used to have at work back home.  Some are large but some are real small and dainty.  Most of the ones I've aeen haven't bloomed yet.  On my ride today I saw plenty of these little guys growing between the paved road and the great big fields of grass but then, almost out of nowhere, I came across an entire field of 6 foot tall sunflowers, all yellow in bloom.

 

 I wanted so badly to just float up over them and just be cradled on their yellow petals.  They stretched into the hazy distance just like all the corn fields I've seen but, sunflowers are just incomparably beautiful next to corn and soy.  As I kept riding, a kind woman pulled over in her pickup truck, offering me a ride to the next town.  I could see the sign just over her truck saying Burke was just 7 miles away.  

She was trying to help me avoid getting caught in the rain but, in the back of my mind a little rain sounded pretty good.  I waved as she drove past me and sure enough, the rain came.  I doubt I'll shower tonight so I welcomed the 7 miles of rain like someone performing a rain dance.  

Taking cover in the only coffee shop in this 700 person town, I am amazed and curious as to what it would be like to live in a place like this.

Day 52 - 7/29/16 Sioux Center, IA to Irene, SD

No need to stealth camp tonight because there are no cops in this town.  I learned about the city park from the bartender, Linda at the only bar in Irene.  She used to work for the city council, specifically for the parks and she said there's no one that will bother me here.  I'm sitting under the pavilion, I have outlets to charge my electronics and there is a fully functioning bathroom with running water and toilet paper right next to me.  

I am in paradise. It's great to meet new people and stay with them but, sometimes a night to myself is exactly what I need.  Well, today I got the best of both worlds.  Riding down the steep hill into town, I came upon the Irene Bar and Grill.  The place was completely empty except for Linda who was taking care of Belinda and David.  They're an incredibly nice couple just passing through Irene to go to their camper for the weekend.  

The 3 of them had so many questions about my trip and for anyone wondering if I get tired of answering the same questions all the time, I do not.  If I can inspire one person to go out and do something out of the ordinary, all my efforts on this trip will have been worth it.  Anyway, David and Belinda decided to pay for my lunch before they headed out – yet another act of kindness I hope to pay forwars one of these days.  Shortly after they left, the bar started to fill up with locals.  

Boy, they could practically smell that I wasn't from the area, they could just tell something was different.  All really warm, friendly people just trying to pass the time on a Friday afternoon.  I knew if I didn't leave soon, I would've speent all night there or I would've gotten in the van with Big Earl and Matt, a couple other outsiders (not as outside as me) headed a couple towns over to play some music at another bar.  So, here I am at the park around the corner, my wet clothes hanging on my makeshift clothesline and the rest of my stuff spread out on the picnic tablea in the pavilion, just trying to get caught up with documenting this ridiculous trip.

Day 48 - 7/25/16

Thank God for Jeff McIntyre.  If I knew exactly what I was doing, I probably wouldn't be using Google Maps to navigate from point A to Point B.  But I don't, so I am.  So far it's been a good way to plan my routes, I've made it this far anyway.  However, aside from directing me to take a bike path that mysteriously ended at the edge of a field overgrown with weeds, I also had the pleasure of riding on 15 miles of gravel roads.  

I've been on gravel roads and bike paths before but, these were just too funny.  I had to do my best to ride within the tire track from the last car that drove down these roads to get the smoothest surface.  Even the smoothest part of the road was like riding on rumble strips.  I had about 10 miles left on my ride before a couple quick turns to the campground and of course it was 10 miles of gravel in the hot afternoon sun.  It had been hours since I last saw a town.  I was getting to the end of my water and I didn't know what else to do besides knock on the door of the next house I saw.  

So I did.  Rolling into the driveway, I scared a dozen ducks, sent a couple peacocks running, startled a massive turkey and made a few chickens attempt to fly away.  There were birds everywhere.  Knocking on the front door summoned a thin, older man with no shirt and jeans cut off at a mid-thigh length.  This is Jeff McIntyre.  He quickly showed me to the spigot that pumped fresh, cold water out of the ground.  I chugged a liter as fast as I could and then filled up my bottle again.  Jeff asked if I wanted a beer, I said of course.  He lead me around the corner of his house to some sort of garage/man-cave, parting the sea of chickens, ducks, and peacocks.  As far as I knew, Jeff might've been leading me to his murder shack to chop me up and feed me to the birds but, the AC was on and all I cared about was getting out of the heat and getting a beer in my hand.  Lucky for me, I got a beer instead of getting killed.  In Jeff's.... I'll call it a clubhouse, was a pool table, foosball table, and air hockey table with at least a dozen TVs, probably even more speakers ranging in size from bookshelf to full-size floor speakers, a naked white mannequin and all sorts of posters on the wall.  He walked over to one of the TVs and said, "Do you wanna see my cat?"  He was standing over a blackened, almost mummified cat corpse.  He said he found it in his barn when we was cleaning.  The skeleton seemed to be completey in tact and the flesh, I guess you would call it, hardened to a nice shell.  He told me all his speakers are connected to his computer where he has over 80,000 songs and every TV set will play visuals to go along with the music.  Jeff told me he could make it so loud the walls and ceiling shake.  I didn't get a demonstration though, maybe next time.  I just stayed for one beer but, before I left he asked if I liked kohlrabi.  I had no idea what that was.  He went into his garden and pulled out a thick, green bulb, pulled off all the leaves and handed it to me, just peel it and put salt on it he said.  Before I rode away he said I should take a peacock feather too.  With full water bottles, kohlrabi, and a feather, I was ready to ride slowly over the gravel to the campground.  There might be a few morals to this completely true story despite my lack of photo-evidence: talk to strangers if you need help, kohlrabi is delicious with salt, and always take a peacock feather if it's offered.  Oh, and riding a bike on gravel sucks.

Day 51 - 7/28/16 Spencer to Sioux Center, IA

It never bothers me one bit when I don't have a place to sleep lined up before I get to the town I'm aiming for.  Something will always work out whether I resort to stealth camping in a field or spending some cash to get a motel room.  There is one pinned location in Sioux Center, Iowa which belongs to Nate and Kirbee.  Nate already said him and his wife were going out for the night and wouldn't be able to host me.  When I got to Sioux Center I was surprised to see Nate working at the bike shop.  

He sold me a seat and a couple other parts I needed for my bike.  Although I couldn't stay at Nate and Kirbee's tonight, he found me a place to stay by asking some of his customers if they would host a traveling cyclist for the night.  Sioux Center just has that small town sense of community where housing a strange, smelly traveler for the night isn't such a strange thing.  I stayed with a great guy named, Iver, his wife, Emily and their daughter, Jovi.  Not only did they put a roof over my head, they also cooked me a lovely meal and they had all sorts of questions about my trip.  I know I've mentioned over and over the overwhelming generosity I've received from people I barely know but, I could just feel it all through this town.  When while I was looking for Iver's house, I got lost and came across this very friendly guy named David sitting on his front steps husking corn, drinking a PBR and hanging out with his 2 boys in the yard.  He gave me some helpful instructions but we ended up talking for a while after that.  We talked about his time hiking the Appalachian Trail when he was my age, my bike trip, and the beauty of living in a real small town.  The way we live back East is not the same as the folks from the Midwest and I wish I knew why.  There's probably a million factors that affect the way people see and interact with the world.  I feel very fortunate see these differences firsthand.

Day 42 - 7/19/16 Chicago to Marengo, IL

It's my first day back on my bike in almost 5 days, it feels good to spend the day with Ginger again.  We rode just under 70 miles which was a nice way to jump right back into it!  I spent last night with Neil and Rett and their dog, Pip again.  They're just too good for letting me store my bike at their place for the weekend and then letting me crash for another night since I was too dead from spending all weekend having too much fun with my friends.  

I feel beyond ready to tackle the rest of this cross-country ride.  I want to have some long days on the road while it's still flat farmland.  Neil helped me plan out my route a little bit last night.  Nothing too specific because plans change quite often but, he gave me a rough idea of the routes I should stick to and what towns might be beneficial or completely barren along the way.  

The next 1/3rd of the country is going to be much more sparse than what I've seen which should motivate me to move quickly to get to the good stuff further West.  Although it will be much more scenic, it will only be that way because of the inevitable mountains...  I know I'll be ready for them when I get there, until then, all I can do is enjoy the ride.

(photos of me courtesy of Neil Gregie)

Day 35 - Chicago to Chicago, IL

No, it's not a typo and neither was yesterday's post.  I don't want to call these 'off days' because I'm technically riding and ending up in a different place for the night but, it just happens to be in the same city.  I did mention I'd be slowing things down but, it's almost time to pick things back up again!  I don't know what I'm more excited about, seeing my friends or continuing my trip. 

 

I guess these things have to happen in a certain order so, friends it is!  But man, am I ready to have a nice long day of riding.  I'm even more stoked after looking at some photos from Neil's first bike tour.  I'm staying with him and his girlfriend, Rett tonight.  Neil has plenty of experience with cycling and doing multi-week tours but, Rett just learned to ride a bike within the last 3 years and went on an 800 mile ride from Chicago to Skaneateles, NY!  

If that's not motivation to go out, try something new and push yourself, I don't know what is.  Numbering the days like I've been doing has been a very handy tool for keeping this long, strange trip somewhat organized.  It's nice to be able to go back and see what happened when and where and how many days and miles away things are from here and now.  When I try to think about what has happened without this trusty journal, the timeline seems like a tangled cord that I can't straighten out for the life of me.  Traveling day after day, seeing different things all the time, meeting new people does something to your perception of time.  

Neil even touched on that aspect of touring.  For him, after about 3 weeks on the road, a different mindset starts to set in.  I have the same feeling – you just become untethered, free from any set schedule other than taking care of your own needs as they come.  Not everyone has the opportunity to adopt this kind of lifestyle so I need to embrace the lack of structure and see what it can teach me.  Day after day, I feel more and more grateful and blessed for the situation I'm in.

 

There is no end in sight, no job or home waiting for me on the other side.  Every day is its own adventure when you're on the road (even if it's just for 10 miles) but someday, I don't care when, I will take the bags off my bike and have a place to leave them while I go out abd ride in a neighborhood I can call my own.

Day 33 - 7/10/16 Palos Hills to Chicago, IL

My friend Max really set me up for a good time in the Windy City.  Not only did he compile a list of pizza and donut places for me to visit, he also used his hotel rewards points to get me a swanky room right in the heart of downtown.  

I felt like Ferris Bueller rolling up to the city seeing the buildings getting bigger and bigger until they surrounded me.  

I followed the bike path right along Lake Michigan where I even saw a kid wearing a "Save Ferris" t-shirt.  Cities are all very similar.  The architecture varies a bit but they use all the same materials.  

You can find the same sorts of attractions: museums, zoos, sports stadiums, shops, restaurants, public parks.  Visiting a city for the first time, all these never-before-seen features seem familiar in a way –

 

like deja vu or the slightest memory of a dream but, it's real life.  My mental map of Chicago has been slowly developing as I've been traveling from restaurant to park to bar to jazz club.  

There are times when I feel like I've been here and then I remember, this is Chicago, I've never walked these streets before.  And what's even more surreal is I rode here on my bike.

Day 32 - 7/9/16 Gary, IN to Palos Hills, IL

Yesterday's ride was tough.  On top of it being hot, I rode along Rt. 12 which felt like riding on the side of an interstate.  Luckily, I didn't have to ride too far. I don't know how much more Rt. 12 I could ride on.  

To make getting off that busy street all the better, the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore was right off the street I turned onto.  I didn't even have to think, that blue water of Lake Michigan hypnotized me and pulled me in like an undertow, still wearing all my riding clothes.  

The water was perfect, just what I needed to help me ride the last mile to Edward and Monica's house. 

Today's ride wasn't so great either.  I rolled through some not-so-glamorous neighborhoods in Gary, IN but, the worst part of the ride was going through some very industrial parts of the outer city.  

The sites and the smells and the roads were all disappointments to my senses but, at least it was a flat ride.  My destination was Palos Hills today, a suburb Southwest of Chicago.  Alex and his girlfriend, Tiffany took me on a groovy ride through some wooded trails to the nearby brewery.  

How great it must be to live in a neighborhood with quiet streets and backyards close to wooded trails that lead you to beer and just a short drive or train ride to the heart of the city.  

I guess it reminds me a little of Stoneham. With a short list of suggested places to visit that we formulated over some jazz and breakfast, I was more than ready and beyond excited to ride into Chicago.