Tag: bicycling in arizona

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“There is pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes,
By the deep sea and the music in its roar;
I love not man the less, but Nature more.”
~ Lord Byron

[/fusion_text][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”10″ bottom_margin=”200″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”no” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”center” link=”https://neilhanson.com/pilgrim-wheels” linktarget=”_self” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”20″ bottom_margin=”20″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]I expected to enjoy the solitude of my ride, and I have. More than I’d anticipated. The lonely lovely desert amplifies solitude. Wandering across these deserts has moved me beyond my expectations. I’ve found a deeper peace within myself.

How does the desert do this? I’ve always enjoyed time on my own. In solitude I’ve been able to discover the things within me and about me that make me what I am today. Time spent alone has always inspirited my mind and my soul, opening me up to myself. But this time alone through the desert has been teaching me a new dimension to solitude.

It started the morning I rode out of Twentynine Palms to cross the Mojave, after 20 miles when I stopped to take in water and food. Leaning against my bike with the low morning sun on my shoulder, the sacredness of the moment, the silence, the depth of the vast desolation. It was palpable. I could see for dozens of miles all around me. Even when the land was rising in one direction or the other, it rose with a constancy that accentuated the immensity of the openness around me. The silence and vastness were stunning.

I’d started to see bits of this on previous days of riding as I was moving into the Mojave, but that moment east of Twentynine Palms it consumed me. I could feel the hallowed wilderness pulling me into itself.

Solitude always wraps me in the inescapable arms of self-ness. The desert solitude I’ve discovered is much larger and deeper. It’s wrapped me and the silence around me into itself. I’m swallowed by the desert around me. The arms of solitude pull the desert through me and me through the desert. Is it introspection still, or is it something different? Extrospection?

I’d been learning about myself in a wider classroom. I’m a piece of a powerful wilderness around me, a wilderness that’s both merciless in its deadliness and profound in its beauty.[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][fullwidth backgroundcolor=”” backgroundimage=”” backgroundrepeat=”no-repeat” backgroundposition=”left top” backgroundattachment=”scroll” video_webm=”” video_mp4=”” video_ogv=”” video_preview_image=”” overlay_color=”” overlay_opacity=”0.5″ video_mute=”yes” video_loop=”yes” fade=”no” bordersize=”0px” bordercolor=”” borderstyle=”” paddingtop=”20px” paddingbottom=”20px” paddingleft=”0px” paddingright=”0px” menu_anchor=”” equal_height_columns=”no” hundred_percent=”no” class=”” id=””][one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”http://www.amazon.com/Pilgrim-Wheels-Reflections-Cyclist-Crossing/dp/0982639120/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1425163739&sr=1-1″ linktarget=”_blank” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

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Pilgrim Wheels Excerpts

This post is part of a series of posts, representing excerpts from Pilgrim Wheels, a story of a cycling journey across America. Pilgrim Wheels was released on March 1, 2015. Before it’s release date, it had already won the following awards:

• Great Southwest Book Festival – 2nd Place – General Non-Fiction
• LA Book Festival – Honorable Mention – General Non-Fiction

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“What makes the desert beautiful is that somewhere it hides a well.”
~ Antuine de Saint-Exupery

[/fusion_text][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”10″ bottom_margin=”200″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”no” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”center” link=”https://neilhanson.com/pilgrim-wheels” linktarget=”_self” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”20″ bottom_margin=”20″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]In Aquila, the Coyote Flats Cafe and Bar sings a sweet invitation to me as it comes into view. I lean my bike against the window in the cool shade beneath a big awning. Leaving my helmet and gloves with the bike, I saunter through the front door, me and my Lycra. What’s it like, you might wonder, sauntering into a desert bar called “Coyote Flats” wrapped in Lycra? Looking back, it does seem a little odd. But the only thing on my mind as I walk through the front door is water and cool air.

The place is mostly empty, just one couple in a booth behind me as I sit at the bar. I order water, a pitcher of it, straight up, eliciting the faintest of smiles from the waitress. She’s an attractive gal with enough miles on the odometer to know the gas pedal from the brake pedal, and has no interest in flirting with the weird old guy in spandex who just walked into the bar.

I’ve put down half a pitcher of water by the time she comes to take my order. She fills another pitcher and sets it in front of me, standing with her pen in her hand, distracted, waiting for me to order. It’s early afternoon and well north of 100 degrees. Perusing the menu, I comment on the heat. “Man, it’s hot out there.”

Setting her order pad down on the counter, crossing her arms, tapping the back of her pen against her lower lip, she looks out the window at my bike leaning there. Her eyes drift to mine with that look women can give men. You know the look, the one that says, “I’m wondering if you’re trying to act dumb, or if you really might be that dumb.” Not necessarily mean, just curious.

I smile sheepishly beneath the pressure of the question behind her look. Every man reading these words knows exactly what I’m talking about here. You get the look, so you know you’ve said or done something really stupid, but you don’t have a clue what it is you’ve done or said that is so outrageously idiotic. Which just makes it worse.

She sees all this wash across my face, and a small smile plays at the corners of her face. Still tapping the pen against her lower lip, she brings her elbows down to rest on the bar, leaning in a little closer to me, as if letting me in on her secret. “Honey, it’s June. It’s the hottest month in the Sonoran Desert.” Pausing, she looks again at my bicycle leaning against her window. “You’re riding a bicycle across the black asphalt in the hottest desert in the hottest month.”

She pauses there, looking into my eyes, raising one eyebrow, letting me know a question is coming. “What, exactly, did you expect?”

Hmmm. Good point. I might have heard those words whispered to me by the desert itself earlier today.

“Right,” I say, closing the menu and handing it to her, keeping my eyes on hers. “I’ll take the burger.” We smile at each other as she takes the menu.[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][fullwidth backgroundcolor=”” backgroundimage=”” backgroundrepeat=”no-repeat” backgroundposition=”left top” backgroundattachment=”scroll” video_webm=”” video_mp4=”” video_ogv=”” video_preview_image=”” overlay_color=”” overlay_opacity=”0.5″ video_mute=”yes” video_loop=”yes” fade=”no” bordersize=”0px” bordercolor=”” borderstyle=”” paddingtop=”20px” paddingbottom=”20px” paddingleft=”0px” paddingright=”0px” menu_anchor=”” equal_height_columns=”no” hundred_percent=”no” class=”” id=””][one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”http://www.amazon.com/Pilgrim-Wheels-Reflections-Cyclist-Crossing/dp/0982639120/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1425163739&sr=1-1″ linktarget=”_blank” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

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Pilgrim Wheels Excerpts

This post is part of a series of posts, representing excerpts from Pilgrim Wheels, a story of a cycling journey across America. Pilgrim Wheels was released on March 1, 2015. Before it’s release date, it had already won the following awards:

• Great Southwest Book Festival – 2nd Place – General Non-Fiction
• LA Book Festival – Honorable Mention – General Non-Fiction

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“I have always loved the desert. One sits down on a desert sand dune, sees nothing, hears nothing. Yet through the silence something throbs, and gleams…”
~ Antuine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince

[/fusion_text][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”10″ bottom_margin=”200″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”center” link=”https://neilhanson.com/pilgrim-wheels” linktarget=”_self” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”20″ bottom_margin=”20″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]Walking out of the store with full water bottles and sated thirst, the heat descends on me and drenches me. I’m a little nervous about whether my two bottles of water will be enough to make it 30 miles to Aguila, and walk back in to buy a little more liquid to be safe.

Back in the saddle and pedaling down the road, there’s a surrealistic quality to the flat road stretching out in front of me along the hot desert floor. A perfectly straight line of dark asphalt, disappearing into a cloud of shimmering heat far away in the miles ahead of me. Now and then, appearing magically from within this bright amorphous blanket across the road, a car will come toward me on the highway. As a car passes me going in my direction, I watch as they travel away from me and disappear into that magical shimmering cloud.

Saguaro cactus stand sentry throughout the sparse vegetation on both sides of the road, clumps of velvet mesquite in the low spots and washes. Along with the clumps of bright white flowers on the saguaro are holes drilled high up on the bigger ones. I assume the holes are home to the small finch-type birds I see moving around on the plants occasionally. As the afternoon progresses, the beautiful white saguaro flowers wilt, surrendering to the oppressive heat.

Far off on the vast plane of desolation to my left, sand and dust formed by the wind rises into a swirling dance across the desert. The little “storms” remind me of tornadoes, though there’s no “top” to them. They swirl from a narrow point on the ground up into a funnel of sand that rises toward the sky, where the funnel just ends. I suspect the air currents go higher, but the “top” I see is just the highest point that the swirling wind carries the sand from the desert floor before dropping it again, the falling sand creating a haze around the base of the funnels. In the Midwest, we call these dust devils, but I’ve never seen one that remotely approaches the scale of these I’m watching.

Several of these devils spin gracefully across the distant desert.  Like a troupe of exotic dancers made of sensual sand, weaving their way across the desert expanse, singing a seductive visual song across the miles, a song made more sensual by the heat pressing all around me. The silence around me adds a bass harmony, completed by the high harmony of the surreal cloud at the end of the distant ribbon of asphalt spitting cars toward me while swallowing the cars moving away from me. I’m reminded again how often mystics seem to wander in the desert.[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][fullwidth backgroundcolor=”” backgroundimage=”” backgroundrepeat=”no-repeat” backgroundposition=”left top” backgroundattachment=”scroll” video_webm=”” video_mp4=”” video_ogv=”” video_preview_image=”” overlay_color=”” overlay_opacity=”0.5″ video_mute=”yes” video_loop=”yes” fade=”no” bordersize=”0px” bordercolor=”” borderstyle=”” paddingtop=”20px” paddingbottom=”20px” paddingleft=”0px” paddingright=”0px” menu_anchor=”” equal_height_columns=”no” hundred_percent=”no” class=”” id=””][one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”http://www.amazon.com/Pilgrim-Wheels-Reflections-Cyclist-Crossing/dp/0982639120/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1425163739&sr=1-1″ linktarget=”_blank” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

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Pilgrim Wheels Excerpts

This post is part of a series of posts, representing excerpts from Pilgrim Wheels, a story of a cycling journey across America. Pilgrim Wheels was released on March 1, 2015. Before it’s release date, it had already won the following awards:

• Great Southwest Book Festival – 2nd Place – General Non-Fiction
• LA Book Festival – Honorable Mention – General Non-Fiction

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“Language… has created the word ‘loneliness’ to express the pain of being alone.  And it has created the word ‘solitude’ to express the glory of being alone.”
~ Paul Johannes Tillich, The Eternal Now

[/fusion_text][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”10″ bottom_margin=”200″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”center” link=”https://neilhanson.com/pilgrim-wheels” linktarget=”_self” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”20″ bottom_margin=”20″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]The desert has taken on a new complexion this morning. The landscape around me is dotted with saguaro cactus, while the sandy landscape beneath the saguaro is covered only thinly with desert plants. The saguaro are fascinating, standing regal and tall, welcoming the heat and desiccation, an endless army of green soldiers scattered across the desert for as far as the eye can see, soaking in all the punishment the sledgehammer sun can pour down on them.

The saguaro blooms from April to June in the Sonoran. I’m at the very end of the bloom. The beautiful white flowers are out in full force this morning, shining brilliantly in the bright sunlight. Many of them have turned to a ruby colored fruit. I ponder the adaptability of life as I pedal through the heat, appreciating this plant that grows and blooms and produces fruit out here in such a hostile environment.

I’m feeling pretty small in this desert. This shrinking may have been developing slowly as I’ve come deeper into deserts, but I’m acutely aware of the feeling this morning. The brilliant dish of blue above me reflects across the vast expanse of sandy landscape around me. On most sides, along the horizon, mountains form the rim of the desert.

I’m the tiniest of specks on this vast desert, dwarfed by giant saguaro that stand 20 and 30 feet tall on all sides of me. Indeed, a firmament above and a firmament below, language borrowed from some other desert folk. Looking at the world around me, the language makes perfect sense this morning.

Traffic is sparse. A light quartering headwind keeps me company all the way to the end of Highway 72 at the junction with Highway 60, where I turn left. I stop and take in the last of my water, realizing that I’m at a significant turn here. I’ve traveled 700 miles so far, meandering generally southeast since I started back in Monterey. This marks the southernmost point on my trip. With this left turn, I’ll begin a northeast bearing that will move me back toward Colorado, at which point I’ll continue east.

I would have expected to feel “homeward bound” at this point, with a corresponding excitement. More cogent is my sense of sadness while crossing this milestone, signifying the passing of so much of the trip. I’m enjoying the peace and harmony I’m discovering in the deep solitude this trip is bringing to me. I’m feeling strong as my body comes into a high level of fitness that deals well with the long days of riding. The moments I’m traveling through become more enjoyable with each passing mile.

Life is very good. I’m happy. Content. Alone, but not lonely.

A friend once said to me, “you must be really comfortable in your own skin.” We were discussing the fact that I often enjoyed hunting trips alone, where I’d camp and hunt by myself for several days at a time. He’s a very social person, and said that so much time with nobody else around would drive him crazy.

It’s true I suppose. I am comfortable in my own skin. While I enjoy being around other people, I also truly enjoy time I spend on my own. By myself, I’m able to find a more intense quality of thought than I can when I feel others around me. In solitude, the depth of my reflection grows. Spending energy interacting with others reduces the energy available for introspection, inspection, contemplation and speculation.[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][fullwidth backgroundcolor=”” backgroundimage=”” backgroundrepeat=”no-repeat” backgroundposition=”left top” backgroundattachment=”scroll” video_webm=”” video_mp4=”” video_ogv=”” video_preview_image=”” overlay_color=”” overlay_opacity=”0.5″ video_mute=”yes” video_loop=”yes” fade=”no” bordersize=”0px” bordercolor=”” borderstyle=”” paddingtop=”20px” paddingbottom=”20px” paddingleft=”0px” paddingright=”0px” menu_anchor=”” equal_height_columns=”no” hundred_percent=”no” class=”” id=””][one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”http://www.amazon.com/Pilgrim-Wheels-Reflections-Cyclist-Crossing/dp/0982639120/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1425163739&sr=1-1″ linktarget=”_blank” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

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Pilgrim Wheels Excerpts

This post is part of a series of posts, representing excerpts from Pilgrim Wheels, a story of a cycling journey across America. Pilgrim Wheels was released on March 1, 2015. Before it’s release date, it had already won the following awards:

• Great Southwest Book Festival – 2nd Place – General Non-Fiction
• LA Book Festival – Honorable Mention – General Non-Fiction

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[one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”50″ bottom_margin=”10″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

“Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.”
~ Helen Keller

[/fusion_text][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”10″ bottom_margin=”200″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”center” link=”https://neilhanson.com/pilgrim-wheels” linktarget=”_self” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”20″ bottom_margin=”20″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]I’m up and riding at first light. There’s more traffic today at this early hour than I’ve been seeing, and I consider whether it would have been wise to have a brighter headlight with me. I started the trip with a brighter one, but that extra pound or two was part of the flotsam I jettisoned back in Paso Robles. Sitting in the comfort of my living room, planning the trip out, it seemed like an easy and obvious choice to bring along the heavy extra light in order to add another level of security to my morning rides. However, out where the rubber and the road come together, the scales took on a different tilt.

It’s easy to talk about the abstract notion of security. We’d all like to feel completely and totally secure, to feel that no danger can touch us. From the time we’re infants, we reach for the arms of our mothers, where nothing can harm us or scare us.

But life can be a dangerous place. The deeper we bury ourselves under the weight of security, the less real life is available for us to live. Every form of security has a price, and too often, we simply accept that added security is the highest priority. It’s so easy to do. We get scared, and we want the scared to go away. We never stop reaching for mother’s arms.

But should security really be our priority? Always? Is safety the highest priority in life, the thing we want the most? On our deathbed, do we want to proclaim that, above all else, we remained safe?

What’s the risk, and what’s the cost to mitigate it? Those are the questions. Life doesn’t give us the luxury of eliminating every risk, or living in a perfectly secure environment. Life extracts a price for every risk we mitigate. We’ve got to be smart enough to mitigate wisely. At some point, we need to let go of mom’s arms, and face the risks life has to offer us. That’s the only way to discover real life.

That’s living.

Helen Keller said that security is mostly a superstition, that it doesn’t exist in nature. She said that life is either a grand adventure or nothing at all.

I’ll choose grand adventure every time.[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][fullwidth backgroundcolor=”” backgroundimage=”” backgroundrepeat=”no-repeat” backgroundposition=”left top” backgroundattachment=”scroll” video_webm=”” video_mp4=”” video_ogv=”” video_preview_image=”” overlay_color=”” overlay_opacity=”0.5″ video_mute=”yes” video_loop=”yes” fade=”no” bordersize=”0px” bordercolor=”” borderstyle=”” paddingtop=”20px” paddingbottom=”20px” paddingleft=”0px” paddingright=”0px” menu_anchor=”” equal_height_columns=”no” hundred_percent=”no” class=”” id=””][one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”http://www.amazon.com/Pilgrim-Wheels-Reflections-Cyclist-Crossing/dp/0982639120/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1425163739&sr=1-1″ linktarget=”_blank” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] [/imageframe][/one_fourth][three_fourth last=”yes” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]

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Pilgrim Wheels Excerpts

This post is part of a series of posts, representing excerpts from Pilgrim Wheels, a story of a cycling journey across America. Pilgrim Wheels was released on March 1, 2015. Before it’s release date, it had already won the following awards:

• Great Southwest Book Festival – 2nd Place – General Non-Fiction
• LA Book Festival – Honorable Mention – General Non-Fiction

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