Guts back. Buts not for long.

     Story+Reflection:
     Years ago, driving home down some back roads in Milford, CT, I witnessed a squirrel run right underneath the tire of the car directly in front of me. The car bounced ever so slightly, break lights blinking momentarily, then carried on. I pulled over and watched the life leave from the animal. It made a pitiful high-pitched noise, rolling to its side as blood and some indiscernible liquid poured from a crack along its skull. It twitched. It arched its back. It died. I moved the dead creature to the bushes, spoke a word, stood in silence, then carried along my commute as well.

     Yesterday, at the Sherwood Regional Library in Alexandria, Virginia, a kind librarian waived the $2 computer fee when she learned of my journey. Another kind librarian offered me some sandwiches, and both gave me many supportive words.

     I veer slightly left, to avoid rolling over the rotted husk of some unknown animal.

     As I eat lunch upon a bench, a man named Ed walks by and inquires as to my baggage. He is amazed at my story and offers lots of route advice. Having difficulty explaining the complex Virginia roadways, he drives off, only to soon return with a map of Virginia, which he hands me.

     Another squirrel, its eyes pushed out of its sockets. How would I look, I wonder, if my skull were crushed under the spinning cauterized rubber, perpetually jetting past my port side.

     I return to a cafe I visited earlier to chill out and perhaps meet and talk to people. As I do, a nearby family leaves abruptly, leaving behind several untouched pieces of delicious looking cake. I help myself.

     Contrary to the worldview one might develop from watching the nightly news, the world is filled with good and kind people. Some people want to help, but can not. Some people can only help so much. Some people just won't. But if you truly need help and present yourself in a way that shows you aren't some bum trying to take advantage of people—that you are actually working towards something—then chances are you are going to find the help you need. In the month since I've left home, I have lost count of the number of people that have offered some small offering or aid in some way. Perhaps a true saint of a man would not think this, but my logical mind can not help but offer me an idea: You could mope around like this forever. Under the guise of some greater goal, I could just live like this indefinitely, relying on the kindness of strangers, as it is said. At some unclear point, however, this reliance changes from a heartfelt endeavor to just taking advantage of people. That is definitely not what I want. That is definitely not okay. I want to grow and learn. Every day is a lesson—if I don't learn mine, then I haven't gotten anywhere.

     As I sped down the Mt. Vernon bike path, at the last moment I saw a squished baby turtle, which I too ran over. Though it was not I who killed it, it would have, if it'd been alive. I stopped, laid my bicycle on the ground, and moved the poor critter to the brush, where it could decompose in peace. Sometimes the difference between life and death is looking ahead just a couple yards.
   
     I can only accept so much food, so many nights on a couch, so many passes of a joint, so much kindness from someone until I feel like I am taking advantage of them. With that in mind, I do my best to give back at every and any opportunity I can. Similarly, I can only accept so many gifts from the universe until I feel like I am taking too much. When you take advantage of people, they resent you for it. When you take advantage of the universe, what happens?

     I'm cruising south down Route One which is disappointingly the same everywhere. The walls of chain stores and other business obscure the remaining bit of marshland or whatnot which they were built upon. This gives the illusion of a metropolis, but it is actually just a 2,377 mile strip of varying levels of development. No matter where I've been on it so far though I have experienced similar trials. Nails, glass, no bike lane to speak of, occasional sidewalks that were obviously built as an afterthought when someone realized people walk there. It is biking Hell.
     Speeding downhill, I notice just ahead a sudden impediment. The road suddenly breaks away into a crag about 2-3 inches thick. Not much, and certainly not a death pit, but enough to ruin any cyclists day.
The cars are flying just to my left and I've no where to go.
Can't stop, going too fast down this hill, at least 22 mph.
Shit.
Adrenaline enters the bloodstream.
Legs are superfluous now—my arms tense as I grip my handle bars as strongly as I can.
I hit the uneven pavement and my bike totters left.
Fuck.
Lean right
LEAN RIGHT
FUCK. FUCK!
A white sedan breezes past, unaware of their potential of ending my life if I lose that thread of balance, sending me right under their tires.
Turn right turn left steady hold it hold it fffffff lean hold it lean into the bump—
I'm past it.
Dodge a couple more nails down the hill and coast to a stop at an abandoned Hess station.
I need a break...

     How do we give back to the universe? How do we balance what we take? Well, there are a couple ways, but they're all simple. Work hard. Learn and grow. Help people do the same. Karma is an observable phenomenon. When we take more than we give back, there is a force that will bring things to balance. Yet the things we want are everywhere. We have to learn to say no; to decline an offer, to turn away from temptation. If I always get what I want how will I grow? I need to need less. I want to need less. I'm moving from point A to an uncertain point B, but the whole point of that is to pursue my greater goals of improving myself, in every way I can. If I'm not pursuing my goals, then what the fuck am I doing out here?

     Coming to the end of a trail, I slow down and am blasted with the odor of an open sewer. People jog and bike by too fast to catch it. The beautiful vista of The Potomac River is not quite ruined by the leak from the city's underbelly, so I stop to take in the moment. I have a new tool now, a cool green Harmonica. I practice for a bit until some people see my bags and ask me where I'm headed. I share my story, and ask them if they'll do me a favor and take my picture.
     Bike trails are like highways—no constant stops or threat of death, no bits of sharp objects to dodge or wear down my tires, just lots of people to watch out for. They can get in the way sometimes, and I've seen other cyclists scoff as they break due to some runner unawares of their presence, but I don't mind slowing down and smiling at everyone I pass. In fact, I sing loudly down the path, when I can, and occasionally make an acquaintance when a passing biker is attracted to my friendliness/lack of filter.

     I've written before, the energy we put out is the same we get back. Express positivity to people and they will likely express positivity back. The same is true for negativity. But we can choose how we respond. If someone cuts us off in traffic, we can give them the benefit of the doubt and wish them well. If someone doesn't hold the door for us on the way into a place, we can hold it for them on the way out anyways. If someone scoffs and doesn't want to help us, we can smile and say, "thanks anyway, have a nice day!" Whenever we observe someone do or say just about anything, there's usually more than one way to take it. If someone is being inconsiderate we can assume they are rude/don't care about others' needs or we can imagine they got caught up in whatever they're doing/are just unaware of others' needs. If someone says something that offends us, maybe they're trying to hurt us/make us angry, or maybe they're just wrong/communicating themselves poorly.
     These assumptions we make are more important than we know. Over time, they have a great effect on our perception of the world. If we always observe humans being negative—mean, rude, uncaring, apathetic—then we'll start believing that most people are that way. If we constantly observe the opposite—humans acting kind, considerate, with compassion and empathy—we'll believe that generally people are good and they mean well. I felt this happening to me spending so much time driving in Connecticut. Impatience, rudeness, apathy; people drive pretty cutthroat in traffic. It's probably the same everywhere. Observing that behavior so much though, it affects how you view people. I had to try really hard to give people the benefit of the doubt all the time. I had to try really hard to see things positively. Finally, I had to leave.
     One of the things I'm searching for is a place where I can belong. A place that is an extremely positive environment which will propel me to push myself towards other endeavors and do my best. I want to surround myself my positivity. Our environment has a huge effect on us. Only by improving myself and improving the people and places I surround myself with can I truly succeed at whatever I choose to do in this life.

     I awaken in my tent. A wolf spider is watching me from the other side of the mesh top. All that remains of that large mosquito that was caught in it last night is the leg that was stuck. Sixty-four miles yesterday wasn't so bad, I'm not even sore. It was worth it going out of my way to this state forest I can legally camp at—I'm finally able to sleep in a bit. But my many thoughts flowing through my mind awaken me all too early regardless. Can I face them here? Have I come far enough yet? Have I earned my place?
     I pack it all up and guide Lionheart back to the road.
     I wish I could avoid it, but I know deep down I can't. All the roads here lead back to route 1.
     Swinging my leg up and around, I push off, but I don't get far until a huge turtle is staring at me from the middle of the road. I stop traffic and move the confused tortoise to a safe place in the nearby wood, then ride on, receiving and affirming nod from the patient driver.
     The crushed and splattered carcasses of other turtles I did not ride by in time only remind me of where I'm heading. A raging river of metal, imperceptible shards of glass, camouflaged nails, and varying sizes of holes. These are the obstacles along my path. I take the right turn and hug my strip of death and garbage, ready to navigate through both. I'm on my way to Richmond—a cool gal I met in Baltimore lives there. She gave me her number. Maybe we'll meet up, maybe we won't. Regardless, I'll have to make that decision again, as I did this morning, as I did a month ago, to say no to safety and love and food and fun, and return to this hell on the side of the road.
     It gets easier each time.


     Thought-Process:
     These are literally my thoughts as I was riding the other day. They go along with some of the writing above. Most days my thoughts are not so intense (though potentially just as introspective). Moral and motivation are greatly affected by our state of mind, and I was definitely in a rut that day, failing to apply myself to the level that I know I am capable of—the level I need to achieve to, y'know, do what I'm doing. As I rode I worked through my thoughts, emotions, and mental blocks and eventually, over the course of a few hours and about 60 miles, came out on top. I had pulled over to write them down as I felt this mental grappling would be worthy to revisit. Keep in mind, most of these "thoughts" are more feelings/emotions that I tried to put into words.

Uncertainty in direction. Questioning purpose.
Inability to tap into drive. Energy low. Feeling slothful, lazy.
Why can't I push myself harder?
What's wrong with me?
Dead animals.
I almost die.
Bad Karma—accepted too many gifts without working for or earning them.
That's why I was led here, to this shitty road [Rt. 1].
See a homeless man asking for work. Watch him get harassed by a police officer.
Talk to him, try to help. Nothing I can do for him...
Supermarkets everywhere. I'm aware of my gluttony.
My right glove... I have to say no more often.
Wrong turn. Dead End. I'll explore it anyways, I want to know why.
That's right, I love exploring!
The discomfort becomes a block. Being tired, dirty, hungry/thirsty, etc.
Difficult to choose that over delicious food, new friends, weed, women...
But I must achieve my goals.
Remember my goals. Remember why I'm here.
[Some exciting music comes on my ipod]
I'm going to this state park. I am going to this state park.
I. AM. GOING. TO. THIS. PARK.
Big hill, legs are tired....
Fuck that, I can do it.
Hungry, thirsty...
Fuck that! I can do it!
Exhausted. At this all day...
NO! FUCK THAT! I CAN DO IT!
I. CAN. DO. IT.
Getting dark.
Fear.
Fear of danger, of unknown.
Fear can be a block too.
Sometimes it's good. Make use of fear to make the best decisions.
Don't ignore fear, but don't let it paralyze you either.
Remember your goals.
Remember what you want!
When things get confusing; just ride. Focus on the destination.
Put everything you have in the endeavor—so there are no questions.
No reason to hold back.
Nothing to distract ones focus.
No way to make excuses.
There it is.
There's my drive.


     Poetry:
     So I read some of my poems at a reading this week, and they were pretty well received.

     As you can see, I was reading them from my journal.
     After I read, a younger guy went up to recite his poetry, but he didn't have it written down. He ended up forgetting some lines and sat back down. He was also a teenager, and really nervous about talking in front of people.
     I'm not nervous at all! I don't even care if people like what I say I just want to hear what people think. So what's my excuse for not knowing them by heart?
     When speaking instead of reading, that alone instantly sends the message that what you're saying is truly a part of you, instead of words on trees. Also, you can emote more, and make hands gestures and stuff.
     So here is my latest poem. I memorized it already! Turns out it's pretty easy to memorize things while riding. Focus on the road and the words and that's it. The poem actually sounds better when I read it aloud and that makes me pretty pleased. I'm actually pretty proud with how this came out. As usual, tell me how it makes you feel or what you see!
     I plan to find a place to express myself in Richmond (:

     "Begin in Struggle"

     For on this bank upon these stones

     the river runs over and carries on

     'tis a masterpiece we tread upon

     each centuries crafted and honed

     to erode makes the water's own

     And across its never-ending flow

     in tendrils and knots vines do grow

     This living thing, I questions so

     Impassable thicket! How does one know

     to be so strong, which direction to go?

     As for the weak, they still thrive

     Monstrous creatures somehow alive

     Every hole, nook, corner they arrive

     Death so simple, yet each still strive

     Those that do, know how, to survive

     Now hear birds sing their cheery song

     Veritable chorus—others dancing along

     Alas! None found when season wrong

     Though 'tis bitter, though we long

     We can not fly! They are gone!

     Yet unlike rocks upon the shore

     We are not made immobile to bore

     Follow reason! Follow lore!
     Follow wisdom from heroes of yore!
     Hone yourselves—into something more!

     And unlike plants that remain still

     We have action! We have will!

     We determine what is good or ill

     So grow! Drink! Eat your fill!

     But always question before you kill

     For as the insect is unaware

     part of something greater, it does not care

     Same holds true in us, but do we dare

     reach beyond our stature, this Earthly snare

     and when we arrive, how will we fare?

     Scraps in the dirt, we push and we shove

     longing for sky and heavens above

     Safe, happy, free—all we dream of

     can only be wrought by us through love

     For all stories aught end in love.

     Pictures:

So far Virginia sucks for riding. The roads go back and froth calling themselves names and huge numbers, such as 718 or whatever. It's rather confusing and I've gotten lost several times.

 Can you see that sign? The answer is no, you can't, because they put a friggin' pole in front of it. No one can see the sign. Why even both making and placing a sign if it'll just be obscured from peoples' vision?
I usually don't rant as it expresses negativity but I just had to show people what I'm dealing with here.
When you've got a burning flame of anger within you to express, it is so hard to just let it go and choose positivity. How can we learn to do that?

I love my new harmonica.