So according to miles, we’re just a bit past halfway–we’ve done around 2700 miles, and have about 2000 mountainous ones left to do. But as Rhiannon commented, it really feels we’ve entered the third cultural or maybe geographic region. I really conflate those two regional definitions, and in a way doing this trip has just made it worse. Biking means we spend a lot of time looking at the landscape, and have only a few really influential conversations each day with which to form a cultural impression of a place (although of course there are lots of signs, houses, pieces of infrastructure to check out for clues, too). I’m pretty confident in my visual impression of the Great Plains after staring at hundreds of miles of wheat fields and thousands of cattle, and that’s going to have a big impression on how I think about the culture of the place.
If anything, I’m finding at this stage in the trip that some of my older preoccupations are returning in full force. Looking at this many landscapes, both on the more natural and the more human-made ends of the spectrum, has made me want to remember everything I know about biology, and wish I’d paid a lot more to my mom’s birdwatching bouts, and had finished this awesome coffee table book I have called INFRASTRUCTURE. Each time we’ve crossed into a new region–the recent ones being the Ozarks Mountains in Missouri, the Plains in Kansas and eastern Colorado, and now the scrubby foothills of the Rockies in Colorado–I’ve completely freaked out about how gorgeous it is and also been filled with questions about what on earth is going on around me. I thought biking would mean that the changes to the landscape would be gradual and piecemeal, but that is completely FALSE. Moving out of the plains into the unfenced scrubland of east Colorado was pretty much an overnight experience: one day it was endless fields of grain and giant harvesting equipment and tiny towns with towering grain mills in them; the next, the roads curved, we saw cactuses and jackrabbits, the air was cool, the fences disappeared, and there were these round brown hills everywhere.
It’s fantastic, especially after the experience with Kansas, which honestly upon a few days of experience was not the best. More than anything else, it felt like pedaling slowly through an incredibly hot, humid, and windy factory of the worst parts of the American diet–just wheat, corn, soy, and cows. Also, we talked to folks in Kansas who really miss the flat when they go away, and like being able to see 10 miles, but I find it hard to understand how that much flat space can feel like anything except violence to the human imagination. I mean beauty is everywhere. But I was glad to leave.
And I will be glad to leave this coffee shop. I apologize for the relative incoherence on display here. FOX is currently commentating on the Michael Jackson paternity crisis, baseless attacks on Sarah Palin, and the energy bill. As a result, maybe 75% has already exploded and it therefore unavailable to help spruce up this blog entry.
Katie, That sentence “I find it hard to understand how that much flat space can feel like anything except violence to the human imagination.” is one of the most awesome phrases I’ve ever heard! And I have to tell you I read your new postings every morning – generally around 5 am eastern time, with the birds singing, the coffee working, and I feel I’ve been cycling along with you (minus the effort!). So thanks for chronicling this trip and I so admire the two of you – hugs and lots of leg motor power to you as you do the Rockies – I was biking them last summer in Montana and Canada so – be ready for most amazing rides – and lots of granny gear – you might even yearn for Kansas every now and then! Anne
I agree with Anne. Katie, when I read that line I was blown away. I had to read it a few times, and then I felt like we were in the same space. It’s absolutely beautiful. *Sniff* I feel like I am reading you going into that metamorphosis that we seem to consciously find when we are out of our comfort spaces – when we are at the mercy of the world and the new experiences we have made ourselves vulnerable to. Keep writing. I love you. ~G
Wow, you are so far away it’s hard to believe you’re only a little past halfway! I’m so happy you guys are having such an interesting experience. I’m also happy you found your phone, because you totally owe me a phone call missy.
especially after you left me that excellent message! i am sorry. i will do better.
KT! KT! KT! Your blogs are so friggin long but they’re so friggin just bursting with that wonderful voice of yours. You know I enjoy it. You know it. I am now the third person to say this, but that sentence of yours is DYNAMITE. Like so many of your sentences. I admire this remarkable perseverance you are exhibiting with blogging. WHO WOULD’VE THOUGHT. hahahah jkjkjkjk. Keep doing it! Be safe! Take lots of mental pictures! I want descriptions in person!
THANKS. i like you too.
KATIERRRR
hellowerrr
yo blogs are so great. i lvoe reading them. i can hear you. like in your last entry: “FAIL.” i hear you girl.
thanks for being so committed. it’s good to hear that you guys are well and having a swell time.
lloveyouuus