9-26-2010 : New Mexico : Mimbres Valley to Hillsboro

Rise before the sun. layer up. shit. pack sleeping bag. sleeping mat. pillow. pile panniers outside tent. make coffee in bathroom. shit. brush teeth. contact lenses. tear down tent. pack tent. hang foot print to dry. eat energy bar. drink coffee. attach panniers to bike. pump tires. shit. unlayer. roll up footprint. attach glove box and camera. fill water bottles. helmet on. gloves on. sunglasses ready. check map. re-lock Garrett’s bike. say farewell. greet the sunshine. roll on…

Climb from 5600 feet to 8228 over the course of eighteen long miles – so long that this morning will feel like yesterday. So steep that your quads will burn. So compounded that shooting pains will fly up your left leg as you approach the summit of Emory Pass. When it burns – walk – and walk proudly. You will make it to the top. And you know this. Breathe deeply through the pines. You have longed and will long for this smell again. Let the cool mountain air tickle your skin.

You will reach the summit sooner than you imagine. And when you do – open your eyes. BIG. It will be one of the most magnificent sights you’ve ever seen. Soak it in. Absorb it with the entirety of your mind, body and soul. And play in it. Celebrate. Breathe. Enjoy.

You will have no cell service. Don’t let this bother you. In fact, don’t let it consume any of your thoughts or energy whatsoever. Having a connection to the outside world is not what’s important right now.

When you feel that you’ve soaked it in, and you being to fret over remaining water supplies, some angels will arrive with water – their names will be Cara and Joe. Cara will have just placed 2nd in a triathlon, and not only will she have water, she’ll also have gatorade, noon, gels, granola bars, and an awesome smile. The universe will convince you to stay just a bit longer, and then you’ll pack up, mount the bikes, and begin the most fabulous decent of your life.

You will feel like you are flying. Like you are 12 again. Like riding your bike down a big hill is the coolest thing ever. Because it is. And because you’ve earned it.

You will roll into Hillsboro, and the old timey mostly-vacated mining town will tickle your senses. The people will greet you with smiles. An awkward man will incessantly talk at you while you devour your evening breakfast burrito. And then you will meet Jim, magical maker of plastic rocks. A transplant. He will fill your water bottles from his hose and invite you over for a fire. You will adore him. And do not take lightly his advice to “be 12″.

Camp will be free and cozy – and you will find a deeper love for this nomadic lifestyle than you have yet. …breathe. Swallow.

Holy cow, how time flies….

It seems like just yesterday, in a way, that Garrett and I landed in St. Augustine after three months on the road. The best three months of my life. What an epic journey. All that we saw, learned, shared.. all of it… I’m still processing, every last drop. The Spring of this year has been wild as well. I just landed back home in Cali after four months at sea with Semester at Sea, a University program that circumnavigates the globe every semester, providing it’s students with a truly international and immersion-based learning experience. It was my second stint as the Voyage Photographer, and it was beyond a pleasure to experience, once again, the life-changing power of Semester at Sea, the same power that united Garrett and I in the first place, and the same power that inspired our bike trek.

Through your support and donations, we raised $14,645 for WaterAid International. So we thank you, from the depths of our hearts, for making a difference in this world. There are now approximately 500 people who will forever have access to safe water and effective sanitation practices, thanks to YOU. And this is a trend, my friends, that we would like to, and plan to, continue. There are still hundreds of millions of our brothers and sisters without access to this most basic of human rights. And together we CAN make a difference.

And so, what is next? How will we continue this trend? This effort. This raising of awareness and love. Well, Mr. Garrett has been spending countless hours, days, and weeks, capturing all the video footage from our journey. Yes indeedy. He filmed the whole darn thing. Start to finish. Complete with video diaries every day on the road and interviews from some of the incredible folks that we met and stayed with along the way. And according to him, there’s some real gold in there. But a film isn’t a film without an audience. And to get this out to the masses, Garrett is trying to raise enough fundage to plop this puppy into some big film festivals. If you or anyone you know is interested in contributing to this project, we have set up an easy way for you to do so. Watch the new trailer, and donate what you can, here… http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/887824845/water-tensionworking-titledocumentarycyclingforwat There’s a deadline, too. If we don’t raise the money by the first of June, we don’t see any of it. And that would be a bummer – cause we’re getting really, really, close. Every little bit helps, and we would love love LOVE to share our experience with the world… in hopes of inspiring more grass-roots movements like it, in hopes of inspiring change, and in hopes of inspiring a greater love and greater empathy for our fellow humans.

And now that I’m back on the mainland, I plan to continue blogging… I plan to share snippets of our journey, straight from the pages of a journal filled with thoughts I cannot wait to revisit. So, yes, ladies and gentlemen, we are still around. And yes, we need your help. In any way that you can provide it. Please help us spread the word, raise the money, share the story… and let’s make this thing HUGE. I cannot thank you all enough for being there, for being who you are, and for providing us the support and love that you have over the past year. Y’all are rock stars. Peace and Mega Love, over-and-out, for now. xx

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”
- Anais Nin

Achieving a goal is a feeling incomparable…
St. Augustine. A dream. A goal. A destination that has been hovering on the distant horizon of our minds and hearts and conversations for months. She greets us. With all the reality in the universe. And all the feelings of a dream. I couldn’t yell or scream as I dipped my tires in the Atlantic. I could only smile, and gaze out into the waves, into the blue… and soak it all in. That warm sticky ocean air. The soft sand slipping between my toes. The smile on Garrett’s face. Tears quietly welled up behind my eyes… and I smiled some more. Because I couldn’t help it… We’ve done it… We’re here. And I am speechless.

I pause to think of the hundreds of people in Africa and Asia who’s lives will be forever changed by the money raised through this journey… and I cry again. Tears of joy. And gratitude. And I think of all our friends and family, and clients and sponsors who have supported us so whole-heartedly… and I cry again. Because I can’t help it. joyful. alive. and happy, truly happy. We could not have done this without every single one of you. And I thank you. For believing in us. And believing in each other. And contributing to a world that is now a better place, because of YOU. Let’s never stop. Let’s never stop doing what we’re doing… Because, together, we CAN make all the difference. Namaste.

What if I told you that in California we are using up our ground water supplies way faster than the rains can even dream of replenishing them? Because we are. Or what if I told you that the Rio Grande and the mighty Colorado, due to overuse by cities and agriculture, no longer reach the sea? Because they don’t.

I think sometimes we Americans feel numb. Separate. Invincible, almost, from the problems affecting the rest of the world. But this time it’s different. We, too, are incapable of living without water. And we, too, are in crisis. In fact, the whole world over, none of us can live without it. And the longer we ignore this global catastrophe, the worse it will become. And fast.

What if I told you that millions of women and children spend most of their lives walking, for hours on end, every day, in the unforgiving desert sun, to fetch water from filthy ponds and seeps? Because they do. And this water kills them. And their children. 4,000 children die every day from water-related causes such as hookworms and dysentery. 4,000. Every day. But it’s the only water they have. And humans need water. So they are left with no choice.

This three month journey has not only been about raising money for WaterAid International. It has also been about raising awareness. About uniting us all in this common need. This basic human right… Water. Because water IS life.

Ready access to clean water is the first step to eradicating poverty. And if we have this knowledge, and we know of the need, how can we NOT help each other? And if we know there is a way to live more gently and harmoniously with the earth, here at home, on our own soil, how can we NOT? We must. We MUST help. And we must change. We all depend on it, more than we can even begin to realize…

Thanksgiving 2010. On the road. Off the grid. Away from home. Different than any other Thanksgiving I’ve ever experienced. I rode my bicycle 68 miles today, over the course of 9 hours, and in almost complete silence. The sounds of families playing and laughing filled the air around me as we zig zagged down country roads. And I had time to think. All the time in the world. In the silence. In my head. Churning over all that I am thankful for. And I found in this silence that the less that I have, the more I appreciate. The simple commodity of a hot shower, for example… something that I take for granted at home when it’s always just steps away… is a receiver of major gratitude. A safe place to make camp in the evening. A warm sleeping bag. Food. Water. Friends. A real live Thanksgiving dinner gifted from some new friends at camp (thanks Rhonda & Lisa!). I’m thankful for Garrett, the best traveling companion a girl could ask for, honestly. And I am thankful for a huge family who has continued to support and love me through all of my wild ideas and adventures. A family who took the time to teach me right from wrong. A family who taught me how to love. How to really love. For this I am eternally grateful.

It’s interesting what we find in the silence…. and as Americans, I’m not sure that we spend enough time there. It will be this silence that I seek when this journey comes to a close. We have only five days of riding before we dip our tires into the Atlantic Ocean in St. Augustine and call it done. It’s hard to believe. And yet, as cliche as it may sound, I honestly feel that the end of this journey is only the beginning of something even greater… and that, my friends, is truly exciting. I cannot wait to see the butterfly that is born of this grand adventure.

So, it’s true, we are in Florida. A fact that blows our minds every day. We are in Florida. And we got here on bicycles…. There’s less than 400 miles of pedaling before our tires touch the Atlantic Ocean in St. Augustine. And it’s all pretty hard to comprehend. San Diego seems like a lifetime ago. I honestly feel like I was a different person then. My body is healthier, more alive, thighs are stronger, ankles bitten, freckles abundant, bike shorts too big. My average traveling speed back then was, don’t laugh, 5-6 mph. Today? 9-10. 25 miles used to hurt, and now we call 50 easy. I no longer pee on my shoes. bonus. And instead of wincing at the thought of hills, I stand up and conquer them. Like a cycling machine. I crave health food stores. And farmer’s markets. And I can’t stop eating…. And all of that is only a glimpse, at only the physical. The mental, emotional, and spiritual growth I’ve experienced is blowing my mind. To be honest, whatever is going on inside of me is so huge that I don’t even understand it yet. And I’m okay with that… That, my friends, is the reason that I must regurgitate my journal for you in the future as I process this crazy journey… That, my friends, is the written record of the churning of my mind, as my body spins round in circles. And I cannot wait to share.