Sunday, August 25, 2013

The journey's done. . . and just beginning

Well, it's all over but the traveling home.
Yesterday, we rode the last leg of Sea to Sea 2013 - with some surprises.
We were surprised by how many other cyclists were out.  Our route must have been "the" route for people from NYC who cycle.  There were literally hundreds of weekend riders.
We were surprised by how green the area was.  Our route was filled with woods and trees until only a few miles from NYC.   If you hadn't told us, we would never have known we were that close to a major world city.
We were surprised by how "bike friendly" New York was.  Granted, we went in on a Saturday, but he bike paths and panes made getting through Manhattan very easy.
Finally, I was very surprised by the unannounced arrival of Mary - who met me on the Staten Island Ferry.  What a cool moment.
From there, we did our "closing ceremonies:"  tire dipping in the Atlantic, and a closing banquet with farewells.

So, the cycling is done.  Frankly, I'm exhausted.
But what now?
I think it's too soon to answer that question.  We'll go back to our homes and jobs, but there's no way to know yet how we've been personally altered by this trip through deserts, mountains, prairies, plains, past lakes and rivers - from sea to sea.
Even the magnitude of the trip hasn't sunk in yet.  We just went from one camp site to another - again and again and again.

At the moment, I can say that I'm fine to be off the bike for a few day.  I can say I'm a bit sad about new friendships with people I'll rarely see again - if ever (until the Lord returns).  I can say that I love warm showers and it was fantastic to wake up with the love of my life.  I can say that it was nice to not have to pack up my tent.  It's even nice to be free of bike repairs.

And it's been wonderful to see God's faithful hand in my life - from sea to sea.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Bonked

I bonked today.  Badly.
(Bonking is an athletic term, used widely by cyclists.  It means reaching a point where your body runs out of fuel.).
It got to the point that turning one more pedal stroke seems like a huge effort.  You're simply out of energy.  Bonking also has a psychological dynamic: when you bonk, your decision making ability diminishes, you're completely focused on finishing, convinced that you can't.  Your mind and body just don't cooperate.
A lot of reasons caused my particular bonk.
Yesterday was a very hard, long, and hilly day.  It had the three h's: humidity, hills, and headwind.  It was also hotter than it's been for the last few weeks, which I didn't notice.  Add to that, there was some confusion with our support vehicles, so the water and fruit stop 30 miles in wasn't there.  We didn't know about this, so we kept cycling, thinking fresh water and food were around the next corner.  I think that was the last straw.  I made it through yesterday OK, but paid for it today.  About 50 miles into a 76 mile ride, I was ready to throw in the towel.  I was cooked.  Thanks to friends, I got pulled in and finished the ride.  I drank lots, ate a good dinner, swam in the pool to cool down, and am taking it easy tonight.  With a few easier days ahead, I should finish just fine (Lord willing.)

I bonked because I didn't eat or drink enough.  And every time I say that I won't make that mistake again, I fall into the bonk trap.
I wonder how many of us live with a kind of perpetual spiritual bonk.  We feed and pay attention to God when we need him, but neglect those things the rest of the time.  Spiritual bonking affects our thinking, our feelings, and our endurance.  Like any relationship, our relationship with God needs as much intentional attention as a cyclist like me need food and water.
Without that attention and regular contact with Him, we'll all spiritually bonk.

Sunday, August 18, 2013

Real Contrasts Today

Today was a study in contrasts.
First of all, we're in Montreal, a thoroughly French city.  The man next to me in Tim Horton's is talking on the phone rapidly in French.  The menu is in French.  The street signs are in French.  I do feel like a foreigner in Canada now more than ever.  I feel out of place.
Second, we went to a large Presbyterian church in Montreal this morning.  This was a tall, narrow sanctuary with a high church liturgy and magnificent pipe organ.  It reminded me that while I can appreciate the heritage and content of such a service (it reminded me of the services of my youth), it didn't speak to my heart anymore.  Other expressions of worship speak to me today. Once again, I felt out of place.
Finally, we decided to tour downtown Montreal, thinking that it wouldn't be crazy busy on a Sunday noon.  Unfortunately for us, it was the Sunday of the Montreal gay pride event (or parade).  Several streets were blocked off and traffic was very congested.  The event also brought out several "fringe" groups that were a bit unlike anything I'd seen before.  I felt out of place yet again.
But in all this, I think the day underscores the incredible variety of people, languages, cultures, and struggles to be accepted and understood in our world - as well as a great variety of expressions within Christian worship.
It makes me long for the reality that is yet to come; a reality the church itself doesn't always model well.  This reality is the hope of when all these voices and cultures and perspectives will finally see the sovereignty of Christ and acknowledge Him as such.
On that day, I won't even be uncomfortable with the French anymore.  :-)

Thursday, August 15, 2013

A Moment's Inattention

My friend Len fell today.  Hard.
It was a silly little mistake, made in a hurry.  Len rode with leg warmers this morning, since it was quite cool.  He stopped mid-morning to remove them.  As we've both done dozens of times, for numerous reasons, he told me and today's other riding partner to keep going slowly; he'd catch up.  We didn't realize there was a stop about a mile later.  We stopped, surprised he hadn't caught us yet.  A few minutes later, someone asked me how Len was doing, since he looked pretty bloody at the side of the road.  In his hurry to catch us, Len had stuffed the leg warmers into his handlebar bag as he was taking off.  One dangled and got caught in the front wheel, stopping it instantly.  Momentum carried him over the handlebars and onto the road.  Fortunately, he suffered only minor scrapes and bumps; it could have been much worse.
Two careless mistakes were made.  One by Len, one by the rest of us riding together.  Lena's mistake was obvious and careless.
Our mistake was actually more careless.  We left another rider behind who got hurt and we didn't know.  The other 99 times we've stopped for a picture or a "natural break," the rider behind always caught up.  We got sloppy.  (Here come the "if's.")
If we'd stayed with him, he wouldn't have hurried and would have gotten things stowed before leaving.
If we'd been with him when he fell, we could have helped.  We were a mile away.

We weren't bad friends.  (Len has done the same for me on numerous occasions.)
But we were sloppy and careless.  Won't happen again.

It makes me wonder if some of our relationships responsibilities get dropped in families or churches for the same reason I dropped the ball today.  It's not that we intend to fail; it's just that we get too used to being inattentive.
Like I said, at least on this trip, it won't happen again.

Monday, August 12, 2013

Through Toronto.

So, we made it through Toronto today.  Safely.
That's a big deal, since the greater Toronto area is the most populated area in Canada.
We got some reminders today about life and death.  Reminders that spoke volumes as to how fragile and important life is.
On the negative side, we passed an accident scene in which someone had driven through a guard rail into Lake Ontario.  The accident happened several hours before and officials had yet to recover the vehicle or its occupant.  Either way, someone lost a family member there today.
On the positive side, my cycling friend Len got the news today that his brother had received a double lung transplant - he suffered from pulmonary fibrosis.  He might not have survived until Christmas;  now his prognosis looks good.  At the same time, his gain means another family also faced loss, as the availability of healthy organs means that another family faced loss.
I know that when the tour began, I asked for prayers that God would use us, not so much for our personal safety.
I'm amending that today.  Our lives on bikes can be so fragile.  Pray for our safety.
We'd like God grace to get us to our destination and home again - safely.

Friday, August 9, 2013

Oh, Canada

So, we've been in Canada for a few days now.  Not nearly enough time to form perfect impressions, but I can share a few.
First, Canadians are very polite people.  The only car horns I've heard have been friendly beeps, never an angry honk.  Canadians also seem to say "sorry" a lot.  They are very polite.
Second, Canadians seem to be as crazy about hockey and Tim Horton's as we Americans are about baseball and Starbucks.
Third, there are "colorful" words that are very acceptable in Canadian language.  However, it is unacceptable to say "what?" if you didn't hear.  You need to say "pardon" or "I'm sorry."  While smoking isn't legal in public places, it seems to be more socially acceptable.
Finally, it seems the CRC members have a higher loyalty and devotion to their church.  I was impressed by how 2nd CRC showed up to welcome me and other riders.  However, they were the exception in the US.  We've actually received cool welcomes.  In Canada, however, we had 100+ people meet us as we crossed the border, and have been met by many groups, couples, and families at the side of the road - bearing water, cookies, and other goodies.
I have to admit, Canada's been good to us, and we're grateful.
We'll see if these impressions turn out to be accurate.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

A Different Kind of Poverty

This evening, we're in Imlay City, MI.  The last fifteen miles were a hard rain that kicked up a lot of sand and grit.  I think I've cleaned my bike five times in the last week.  Sigh.
We had a new look at poverty today.
For the bulk of our trip, we've seen a fair amount of rural poverty.  It looks like boarded up small towns like Derby (Iowa, I think).  It also looks like Native villages or homesteads that don't have electricity or running water.  It very often looks like abandoned farms or decaying farmhouses where people can no longer live, but show that some-when, someone tried to make a life there.
Today we saw a new face of poverty: urban poverty.
We rode through Flint in the late morning.  (It was raining lightly already then.).  There was very little traffic I downtown, many businesses were boarded up, and it didn't eve sound like a city.  It was quiet.  In the residential areas, there were many boarded up homes, countless burned ones, and very little construction or repair.
For me, this was a reminder that poverty knows no boundaries.  It's in my home state, in city and country.  Its causes are many, and its solutions hard.
Jesus was very right: the poor will always be among us.
And we don't have to go very far to find it.

Saturday, August 3, 2013

The rest of the world...

If you're reading this, then you know I and many others with me have been diligently riding our bikes for poverty relief the last six weeks.
Our world has shrunk down to the 100+ riders and support crew we've come to know as our temporary family.  We've become friends, become aware of each other flaws and foibles (which are impossible to hide for six weeks), and we've learned to trust each other on the dangerous roads of the journey.  Our world has also shrunk to the small and not-so-small towns we visit each night.
What we tend to lose sight of is the rest of the world.  We keep up with immediate family by phone, while others with real tech connections keep the "world" aware of what they're doing.  But our jobs, friends, and normal-life concerns have faded "out of sight."
So, I want to say thanks to my friends, family, and church family for reminding me and many other riders that you've remembered us while we've been gone.
Seeing the large group gathered in Vriesland as well as the sidewalk art in Jamestown (thanks Konyndyks) was an incredible encouragement to both me and many other riders.  One commented that we must have passed through VanderAwesomeLand.  :-)
More importantly, this morning was a concrete reminder that you've been praying for us too.  From all of us on the road, thank you for those prayers.  Please don't stop!
As riders, we might develop some tunnel vision, forgetting the rest of the world, temporarily.  We're all grateful, however, for those that continue to remember us.