Tag: mojave desert

Misery Milkshake

Desert Flowers in Navaho countryAt about 45 miles, we come to a little place called Mexican Water and I do some gulping of a different sort — about half a gallon of vanilla milkshake. This is our breakfast stop, but as it often the case, we end up eating cheeseburgers for breakfast. A milkshake on top of a greasy cheeseburger is a fantastic idea, right? A big rich milkshake that’ll sit and curdle in my stomach for the next few hours as we make our way across a hot desert…

Stated that way, I know it doesn’t sound like such a great idea. But sitting in an air-conditioned diner, enjoying the coolness and wanting more of it, an icy milkshake sounds really wonderful. Intellectually, I know what’s going to happen. I know this won’t turn out well. But I do it anyway.

Why the heck do we do this to ourselves? Are we pre-wired for self destructive behavior? I can’t even begin to count instances in my life when I’ve watched smart and sane people dive headlong into a night of drunken debauchery fully aware of the high price they’ll pay the next day. Or folks who maintain high calorie intake diets day after day, knowing full well that they’re saturating themselves with weight and goop that will significantly deteriorate their quality of life all the way up to the point that it kills them early.

I’m sure psychologists have all sorts of “reasons” for this behavior. There must be a few folks who are immune to it, but it’s a pretty small percentage in the culture I’ve observed, and certainly doesn’t include me. Is it an internal collective lemming-type behavior, truly trying to bring about self-destruction? Maybe some sort of psychological pathology bred into us by a common ancestor way back in time who just happened to have some other traits that evolution selected for, and we just got this dark tendency by accident?

Maybe it is lemming-like. If so, I just took a huge leap off the vanilla milkshake and cheeseburger cliff, and I pay a heavy price as I push my mushy legs around the pedals headed east out of Mexican Water. That cheeseburger grease and heavy cream curdles nicely in my gut, urged on by a broiling sun baking down on me.

This self-induced gastronomical hurt-locker stretches out in front of me for a lot of miles, so I settle down into a miserable pity-party, and watch Dave hurtle on up the road without me. Wallowing in my suffering, I imagine that wind could have a big impact on me right now. A friendly tailwind would drown my bellyache in the pleasure of the ride, while a bad wind would dig this black hole of misery deeper.

With that thought, I cast a jinx. A nasty crosswind pushes against my right shoulder. Just as the euphoria I felt this morning boosted my physical well-being, my current milkshake misery pummels my tolerance for the wind that’s blowing in my ears. Dave seems unfazed by either the milkshake or the crosswind, cranking away at his steady pace. Mr. Consistency.

Misery, like the Sirens of the ancient Greeks, lulls our mind into numb acceptance, and we fall deeper and deeper into the hole of loathing, unable to see joy around us. I know this is happening to me as I force my legs to turn the pedals, and I struggle to find a mast onto which I can lash myself to avoid falling into a pit of despair. I remember the wonderful euphoria I was feeling all morning before breakfast, and try to keep my focus on the goodness the memory brings. I begin to enjoy the ever-evolving desert beauty around me again.

Lonely Lovely Desert

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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]

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

[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][/fullwidth]

Coyote Flats

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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]

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

[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][/fullwidth]

Sensual Sand Dancing

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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]

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

[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][/fullwidth]

The Sonoran

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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]

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

[/fusion_text][/three_fourth][/fullwidth]

False Security

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“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]

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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Silence

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“The quieter you become the more you are able to hear.”
~ Rumi

[/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]Twenty miles out of town, I stop along the side of the road to take in a few calories and some liquid. The sun has crept above the horizon, a bright furnace of nuclear fusion, beginning the morning ascent into his throne in the sky. Mountains rim the horizon around me. The air is crystal clear. I’m a tiny dot in a vast petri dish of sand and desert plants.

And the silence…

The silence of the open desert again, that lack of stuff to create sound as the wind moves through it. A great metaphor for our time here in this life. While we’re here, we might as well be invisible were it not for the impact we have on the world around us. The things we move through make the music that becomes our life.

Once we leave, the only thing we leave behind is the sound we made while moving through the obstacles we find. The only thing we take with us is the silence we’ve nurtured in our heart. We’re like an invisible wind, only apparent to the universe around us through the deeds we do, the songs we sing, and the harmonies we create in the world as we move through it.

The hypnotic silence wraps itself around me. The early morning magic soaks into me as surely as the heat from the rising morning sun burns into my cheeks. I’ve always enjoyed the quiet, but am discovering a new dimension to silence here in the still desert morning. No cricket chirps, no bird sings, no leaves rustle with the movement of air. A truck drives by. I hear it coming from miles away, and hear it for miles as it moves down the highway after it passes. With every 50 or 60 seconds, it puts another mile between itself and me, and drops the sound even further.

Deep silence is something so rare that it’s both conspicuous and remarkable when it confronts us. As I reflect into the depths of the silence around me, the desert itself becomes both more surreal and more personal. Quiet so deep and so broad that it becomes one of the prominent defining dimensions of the world around me. It’s hypnotic. Mesmerizing. Sensual. I know I should get moving down the highway, but the silence holds me. I wallow in it.[/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=”none” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”https://neilhanson.com/pilgrim-wheels” linktarget=”_self” 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]

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 will be released in early March, let me know if you’re interested in doing an advance review.

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The Edge

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“We’re always attracted to the edges of what we are, out by the edges where it’s a little raw and nervy.”
~ E.L. Doctorow

[/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]Pre-dawn darkness sees me quietly stealing out into the wilderness, away from people, toward solitude. Rolling down the road through a sleeping town toward the vast empty expanse of the Mojave Desert, I listen to the sweet sound of my freshly oiled chain reflected from the buildings in town as I push my bicycle out onto the surface of a vast desert wilderness.

Once I leave town, the next services are 90 miles east, the longest crossing I’ve ever made. My cache of water at the 70 mile mark is my insurance policy should the wind turn bad on me. In addition, I have two full water bottles, two liters of Gatorade, and another half-liter of water in a bladder stowed away in my bag.

This crossing brings me to within shouting distance of the threshold of mortality. If the wind blows the wrong direction, or the heat gets particularly high, I’ll have a pretty tough day. If both happen, I could be in serious trouble — the kind of serious trouble that can be life-threatening.

Not to over-dramatize the risk. I am, after all, on a public highway. In most cases, if I end up in serious trouble, there’s at least some chance that I can flag down help. Nonetheless, I’m alone on a bicycle crossing a desert wilderness in the summer. Things can turn ugly in a hurry.

So why on earth am I doing this? These next few days really are the “heart of the truth” for me, crossing first this Mojave, then the Sonoran. Crossing the heart of truth, out on the edge of comfort and safety.

Edge: A rim or a brink, or, a place where something is likely to begin. A penetrating and incisive quality, or, the degree of sharpness of an instrument designed to cut. Keenness, as of desire or enjoyment; zest: The brisk walk gave an edge to my appetite. (Compilation from several sources.)

Life happens on the edges. We can’t find the next place on our journey until we discover the edge between the place we are and the place we need to go. Something ends and something else can begin only along an edge. Along these edges we find and feel the penetrating and incisive qualities that give definition to our life. Our interface with life is sharpened at the edge. We discover our greatest zest and our most keen desires at the edge.

I feel alive in a way we rarely get to feel alive in our safe and coddled culture today. Dawn spreads a beautiful pastel palette of color across the eastern horizon in front of me, adding fuel to my wonder and excitement.[/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=”none” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”https://neilhanson.com/pilgrim-wheels” linktarget=”_self” 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]

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 will be released in early March, let me know if you’re interested in doing an advance review.

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The Sweet Shore of Sleep

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“Don’t underestimate the value of Doing Nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can’t hear, and not bothering.”
~ Pooh’s Little Instruction Book, inspired by A.A. Milne

[/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]Day 7 of my trip. A good day to rest. This seems to be a popular opinion at any rate.

Late in the morning, sitting in some shade close to the pool, I’m enjoying my little slice of life. I’ve got my book with me, but I’m not reading it. I’m languishing in the shade, soaking in the hot air. Kids laughing and splashing in the water around me is a sweet melody, bringing back memories of when my children were young.

I notice a small bird moving around the desert plants, and reflect on how the wildlife has changed along with the plant life as I’ve moved from the coast out to the desert. In just a few short days I’ve gone from lush rainforest, through wine country and grassy savannah, now onto a high desert, about to drop into deep and dangerous desert.

One thing I didn’t count on when I planned this trip was how full of blooms the desert is in June. The spectacular Datura grows everywhere along the highway here, with beautiful big white flowers that look iridescent in the bright morning sunlight. As the day heats up, the flowers must close or fade, because I don’t see them in the afternoon heat. (Of course, they might be there and I’m the one wilted in the afternoon heat, no longer paying close attention…) Their large leaves and flowers spread out over the side of the road, spilling their sweet fragrance through the morning air as I’ve pedaled past them on the road.

Leaning back in my chair, enjoying the shade by the pool, that sweet fragrance infuses my memory. I can surely recall a few frustrating incidents I’ve had as I’ve approached this rest day, some bad wind and deadly drivers for example. But along with those moments of frustration has come a long list of moments of pure sweetness.

There’s some measure of sweetness in nearly every moment, along with some measure of bitterness. Life is so much better when we learn how to sniff out the sweetness in each moment, distilling any bitterness away.

My eyes close as I wander through these thoughts. The kids have gone in, leaving behind a pristine quiet to keep me company as I sit alone in the warm shade. Drifting along the quiet surface of deep relaxation, sneaking gently along the shore between sleep and wakefulness, I feel a smile in my soul. My mind quietly laps up against that sweet shore of sleep, like a log might roll gently back and forth against a shady bank at the edge of a quiet pond.[/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=”none” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”https://neilhanson.com/pilgrim-wheels” linktarget=”_self” 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]

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 will be released in early March, let me know if you’re interested in doing an advance review.

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Pedaling Past The Grim Reaper

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“For what is it to die, But to stand in the sun and melt into the wind?”
~ Kahlil Gibran

[/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]Pressing up a gentle slope into the headwind, I hear the roar of a car engine ahead. Coming toward me a Mustang pulls out to pass another car. Expletives explode from my mouth as I make a split-second decision to stay on the road rather than diving off the shoulder and down the two foot drop into the rocks below. Pulling out right behind the Mustang is a pickup truck.

Rocketing head-on at highway passing speed, they pass me at a couple feet, though it feels like inches. I’ve got no shoulder. Nowhere to retreat. I’m completely exposed and vulnerable, left to trust completely, trusting both the drivers and the wheel of karma.

The terror of the moment grips me as I continue pedaling, and I begin shaking. Luck is with me this morning, but just barely. So easily, that close encounter could have gone the other way, pedaling past the grim reaper so closely.

There are moments in life that come down to a tiny fraction of fate or fortune, and can go either way. There’s a new lens that opens up to us suddenly when this happens, and we see the world a little differently. We realize that we just stumbled past the doorstep that takes us out of this life. Stealing a glance into the doorway as we pass, death’s merciless scythe reaches out to leave a little scar on our soul, reminding us just how closely the door follows us through life.

What we see when we glance in as we pass does much to define our spiritual outlook. We look back on these moments, basking in the mercy and grace we feel at being still on this side of the doorway. From these moments we decide whether we believe there’s any rhyme or reason to which way we stumbled. We wonder if we’re somehow favored by the Universe, or somehow invincible, or deserving of some special treatment.

The jitters and shakes eventually subside with my regular pedal strokes. I realize how dang lucky I am to be alive. With passing weeks and months I’ll look back on the panic and dread of the moment, and I’ll remember that dark door through which I stole a glance in passing. I’ll remember the sense of overwhelming grace and mercy I felt when my stumble kept me on this side of that door. I’ll realize, over and over, that at any moment “there but for Grace” I could easily fall.

There’s no deserving, or plan, or roadmap, or anything like that. There’s no bartering or negotiating. Lean just slightly the wrong way, at the wrong time, and the door will swallow us up if we happen to pass too close.

Reach out and hold hands with Grace, give Mercy a hug. Today and every day of this lifetime. That’s the image that will come back to me over time as I remember that stolen glance into darkness. Not because of any debt. Not to buy insurance for the next stumble.

Just because. Those moments introduce us to Grace and Mercy. The gift is the chance to reach out and hold their hands. Nothing more, nothing less.[/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=”none” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”https://neilhanson.com/pilgrim-wheels” linktarget=”_self” 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]

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 will be released in early March, let me know if you’re interested in doing an advance review.

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