Chippewa Valley Ride

Well, I could not keep up with my cycle mates yesterday and somewhere around the 40 mile mark I inadvertently took a left when I should have taken a right and ended up on the 75 mile route instead of the 100. I realized my mistake a few miles down the road but by then had to admit that not only would I not be able to catch up I don't think I had it in me to finish--at least not before the ride organizers called it a day. Counting an early mis-turn and a short post-ride I logged 80 miles. The weather was very, very cool and the winds hard. It seemed like the winds were always in our face whatever direction we were going. The organizers said it had been years since it was that cold and windy and that a larger than usual number of people were given rides back to the base site because the combination of wind and hills was just too much. I really felt my lack of stamina and strength training, but it was a good reality check. Still, all in all, it was good for me to confront my limits, to get this many miles in, to enjoy the beautiful Wisconsin countryside, and to enjoy some brats and beer at the end!

The folks we met at the park and on the ride were all very nice, though I have to say Yectli, Gilberto, and I were the only visible signs of a diverse population out there!

The pics above? Getting ready to leave at 5:00AM, posing at a rest stop, a long stretch of road, and Yectli and Gilberto finishing their successful century ride.

Raising the stakes: Life cycles

So early tomorrow morning I am heading out to Wisconsin with two friends to participate in the Chippewa Valley Century Ride (http://www.chippewavalleyride.us/index.htm). My friends did one of these recently but the 65 miles I rode a few weeks back was my longest ride yet. A 100 mile ride will be a new milestone for me. If successful I'll feel much better about the challenge ahead. The next thing will be for me to do rides and camping trips,which I have planned for the next two weekends in a row. Next weekend I'm heading out to Lake Itasca, where the headwaters of the Mississippi are to be found. The week after that I'm going to Melrose, MN where a colleague of mine at the U has arranged for me to speak to townsfolk about the changing demographics of Melrose. I'm going to bike one way, it's about 100 miles from Minneapolis,but as best as I can tell I'll have to take an indirect route that will add a few miles.

As I head into the last month of preparations, I'm accumulating supplies and equipment, refining my route, and getting ready to let go of my life as I know if for a while. I'm both anxious and excited as I hope to learn a lot on this trip--about others as well as myself. I hope I'm not disappointed.

I was in Texas this past week visiting family since I won't see them again until I ride through Houston sometime in the fall. Unfortunately my visit was framed by funerals.

One of my childhood friend's father passed so I left a day earlier than I intended to in order to arrive for the funeral service. It was there that I learned from one of my sisters that an old family friend who was the youth activities coordinator and a teacher and musician at our parish for many years had passed at a relatively young age (60). So I stayed a day late to attend his wake and say my goodbyes. Though sad, it was good to do be there and see people I hadn't seen since childhood. I had missed my uncle Johnny's funeral a few weeks earlier, so I was glad to show my respects.

En paz descansen

John Hernandez
Alfred Galaviz
George McDonald

Yesterday I received wonderful news that my youngest sister Gilda had given birth to a daughter. Welcome to this world Marissa! May you help make it a better place!

I told my sister Mary Ann that before leaving I would be sending them a living will--just in case. Such are the things I don't want to have regrets about.

The recent debates on immigration policy have proven to be as polarizing as one might have expected. Listening to talk radio on the road I was struck by the vitriolic rhetoric of talk show hosts and callers about all these so-called unwanted "illegals." It was painful and sad to hear. So much misinformation. So much absolute ignorance. So much disdain for other humans beings. I have to wonder over and over again, what would it take, if it's even possible, to change these people's minds and hearts? I don't understand the lack of compassion. I don't understand the blindness that people have to how they are connected to immigrant labor by the food they eat, the industries that immigrants work in that help sustain people's quality of life in this country.

Can you think of what it would take to get people to listen, to see the mutuality of our destinies?

Training Days

With the end of the semester my schedule is finally lightening up to the point where I can devote the needed time to prepare. Of course, one should be able to integrate exercise into their daily life, but finding balance is not a forte of mine. I did commit to a 100 mile ride in Chippewa Falls, WI on May 28th, so that's a nice short term goal. And if you're thinking I'm crazy to think I can do that, I might just surprise both of us. I went on a 65 mile ride this past Saturday and felt pretty good. If I can build up my time and stamina, I'll be just fine. It was a wonderful ride out past the town of Excelsior to a nature reserve. I have to say that though I didn't map out the ride in advance, Minnesota has such nice trails that I was able to get on Cedar Lake trail and just keep on going. A few weeks back when it was still cold I went the same route but not nearly as far. I was pleased to see that I got to the point where I turned around last time in a half-hour less time. I attribute that to being a little stronger but also because the weather is so much nicer. Last time there was still snow and ice on the ground and I experienced a full speed fall when I hit an ice patch. Besides a few scrapes and a bruised ego, I was fine. It also helped this time that I have since outfitted my bike with a few more gadgets, like a computer that tells me my pace and distance. It was very helpful in motivating me to keep a steady pace. I found that it didn't take a lot more effort to pick up my speed when I needed to.

Long steady inclines up hills are HARD as one would expect. I hit a big bump coming down a decline and stopped to inspect the bike and could not get going up the hill--so i had to walk. That was humbling. Going down one hill I almost hit 40 miles per hour and had a flashback of a time in high school when my cousin Paul and I stayed out at his parent's beach home in Kemah (or some small town near Galveston) and rode to the island. On the way there we rode over the draw bridge (below) after the bridgeman chastised us for going that route, but he let the bridge down for us anyway. To avoid his attitude on the way back at the end of the day we rode over the steep bridge connecting the island to the mainland via I-45 (see below right). It was a pretty foolish thing to do, though we didn't realize how much so until we made it safely back to the other side. There was no bike lane or sidewalk so we creeped along the right hand lane as cars going 55 mph rode alongside us. Riding behind Paul all I could think was that if he fell, that was it for both of us--that we would spin out into the traffic and get crushed. When we got to the other side, we were pretty freaked out about what we had just done and swore we wouldn't be telling our parents because we would justifiably be chastised by them. It was thrilling and frightening.

I expect a lot of that on this trip. Being in the nature reserve was quite beautiful as deer ambled across the bike path without fear of me. To be sure, the ride back home long and hard because I just wanted to be done. I also realized how much energy one burns and became very aware that I would need to plan my nutrition intake very deliberately. One website I read from a cross-country biker said that you should feel free to consume lots of food when it's available because riding 6 or so hours a day for many days a week you will consume lots of calories. of course this makes sense--and I look forward to carrying less weight on my skeletal frame as I put the miles behind me.

Six weeks to go and I've a lot of challenges in front of me--including starting to ride with my panniers fully loaded, doing a couple of 2-3 days trips so I can get used to camping, packing food and water, etc. One thing that I'm not sure I'll be able to train for is the solitude of being on the road. The truth is, I'm something of a loner anyway, though my daily life is steeped in interactions with folks. Perhaps because the intensity of my work schedule, I often want nothing more than being home alone, though Shadow, my cat, is a constant companion. But on the road, my tools of distraction will keep me company.

There's the rub--this trip will push me to minimalize in a serious way--and simultaneously require me to be more outgoing thank I usually am if I am to engage people in conversation every chance I get. My instincts will have to be sharpened and set aside. A number of people have expressed concern for my safety. Basic road safety is one thing-and any long ride reminds you that this is not like casual driving in a car. You really have to keep your eyes on the road and your peripheral vision acute. My sense is that the concern they have for me is above and beyond this. A number of people have cautioned me about riding through certain states (Idaho, Wyoming, Nebraska, Alabama, Mississippi, to name a few), and I understand and appreciate this concern. Heck, I get the creeps driving through the south. It's not only memories of Jim Crow Texas when our family had to go to the back of the store to buy food in West Texas, but much more recent trips where people can't stop staring--as if I'm an "alien" or something! But that's part of why I feel compelled to do this as well--to know that I can. not to "prove" to the world that I can, but to gather the courage to find out if I can. And yet I know two things: 1) I will carry a certain amount of privilege with me--and that will be signified in numerous ways, from the bike, to clothing, etc. And, to some extent this will shield me from being "mis-read" as "foreign". And yet, as a man of color, I know that I cannot forget that my very body will mark me in ways that are inescapable and my safety can spin on a dime depending on whose path I cross any given moment. Of course, as a man, I also carry that privilege. It may be considered risky for me to do this, but it would be considered absolutely foolish for a woman to take a trip like this alone. Which, of course, is not to say they shouldn't be able to do so.

Next time I'll tell you a bit more about the path I plan to take and the kinds of questions that will drive my interactions with people.

Different day, S.O.S. (same ol' stuff)

Please take a look at the two news articles I've posted in a new section called "In the News". One is a story about a foiled plot by militiamen to attack Mexicans in Alabama with homemade bombs, assault rifles, and assorted other firearms. The other is an editorial commentary by a local Mexican American businessman in Minneapolis whose poignantly expresses how painful and tragic it is to live as a target of conservative zealots who are trying to score political points by passing legislation that marginalizes all Latinos in this country. The former provides support for the latter's claim that "we" are indeed random targets, that we are all perceived as illegal--that once someone is cast as "illegal" the way is paved for random and deliberate acts of violence to occur. It's not so illogical as it might seem--after all, the fantasy that we are a society that lives by the rule of law, and that laws somehow serve as the basis for a just, fair, and humane society are so powerful a myth that many become blind to legal injustices that. pervade our society. Criminalizing people and legitimating the language of criminalization--that a human being can BE illegal rather than merely commit illegal acts is the same language that justified the atrocities of Nazi Germany.

Anger and sadness--those are the daily psychological and emotional boundaries that define many peoples lives. It can be hard not to lapse into despair, or do like so many others do and simply exercise whatever privilege we may have to make sure people know we are not one "them"--los ilegales. One would think that being a cynic protects one from being surprised by the everyday nature of random and deliberate violence--be it in Alabama or the attacks by police against people at the May 1st pro-immigrant rally in L.A., where clearly the Latino media became legitimate targets of the police. I was shocked, however, that the foiled attack in Alabama did not make national news as an act of terrorism. Why do you suppose this was so? Could it be because the target was a bunch of brown folks who were presumably "illegal"? Did that somehow lessen the severity of this intended crime? Imagine, if you will, that the foiled attack had been planned by brown men (of any ethnicity) against a community of whites? What do you suppose the news coverage would have been like in that case? I can only imagine the national headlines framing this as an act of terrorism occurring right here on American soil--warning us to be on the look out for suspicious looking groups gathering together plotting against national safety.

Oh, before I forget, Happy Cinco de Mayo!