Archive for January, 2009 Home

“Cheating”

January 25, 2009 | posted by Jon under united states, updates | Comments (3)

Call it a catch-up post, but I feel like people deserve a longer narrative of what has been going on these past couple of days in recompense for our neglecting to post…..

I respect people who call themselves purists, and I think there is a lot to be said for that viewpoint. However, when it comes to bike touring, I consider myself an opportunistic purist. That is, if I can ride, I will, and I prefer it. But if I can’t ride, I’ll find another way to keep going. This past week, that “another way” manifested itself in the form of hitchhiking.

Some people might look at the past couple of days of travel as “cheating”, but Lars and I decided early on that we weren’t going to kick ourselves or get depressed about failing to ride every mile. First of all, our route doesn’t allow it (seach Wikipedia for Darien Gap), and second, we don’t have anything to prove. It’s not a race, and at our final destination no one is going to fault us for not riding through hardly any of Alabama. If they do, we already have a response for them - “When was the last time you rode 7,000+ miles transcontinentally?”

Yeah, so maybe I am a little disappointed that my rear sat on more seat cushion than leather saddle these past couple of days, but I think there are lessons to be learned from hitching, just like any other stretching experience. But before the “thumbs up and out!” sermon, I should recount the week’s events, picking up where Lars’ post left off: Tuesday’s (Jan 20) “Inaugural” ride to Atlanta.

A journal excerpt (verbatim….I was tired when I wrote this):

103.5 miles. Enough said. 6 AM to 6:30 or 7 PM riding. That seemed like that’s all that was (??). Not good riding either. Crammed, trafficky riding. But to be a little less depressing, a list of things I saw on the road today:

4 bungees, 1 complete set of lingerie, string, tape, 1 frying pan, 2 ice cube trays, a sharp-looking knife, a Barbie, many glass shards, 1 car headlight, a couple of pens, and a hubcap.

I’m tired, congrats to Obama, goodnight.

Tuesday was by far our longest day, but we had Vernon’s house to look forward that evening. Vernon is a wonderful man who used to teach at Goshen College, particularly in cross-cultural education, so it was interesting to talk both to him and to others with him present, since he added much to the conversation. Little did we know we would have a cheering, picture-snapping receiving party to greet us when we pulled into their house. After a splendid meal of cornbread and ham and bean soup, we chatted with Vernon and co. before they graciously left us with their entire house (Vernon remarried and now lives down the street with his wife, but still keeps his original house for guests).

That following morning we were treated to breakfast at IHOP where we met a friend of Vernon’s that worked for the state mapping all the dirt roads in Georgia by hand on linen sheets. He ate with us, and apparently frequented the restaurant enough to be be able to order “the usual” - a senior special with grits instead of hash browns and two glasses of sweet tea :). No wonder he comes back…

Lars and I then headed off down the road with full bellies and a bright outlook - for about 10 miles. I didn’t expect to ride 100+ miles without consequence, especially after 5 days of rest, so that meant knee pain was back in full force. We rode to I-85 where we promptly situated ourselves on the on-ramp with high hopes of catching a ride on the many trucks headed south. The only car we managed to stop was a patrol car headed south that told us to get off of the on-ramp, and that hitching in Georgia was illegal. We smiled and nodded and handed him a card with this website’s address on it, and headed back to the gas station to ask for rides there. After 3.5 hours of no luck at the gas station, I decided to brave the on-ramp again. As luck would have it, I was again scolded and told I would not get another chance. Finally Lars and I caught a ride with two brothers and their Latino workers who were in the repo business. That ride was culturally stretching for me, because it mixed the down-home, wild southern country boys with a quiet, observant Latino presence. Then when we jumped in, it seemed as though all of our cultures were as squished as our bodies, and it was a bit uncomfortable. If different cultures had scents, this ride was like walking into the Yankee Candle Store. Thankfully it was only for 10 miles.

Following that ride, we got another short ride with a hunter who educated us about the difference between deer raised in Georgia and deer raised in Illinois (no “gamey” taste in Illinois meat), and then we got our final ride with a couple headed back to Alabama from Atlanta with an automatic wheelchair for their neighbor. They were incredibly gracious and dropped us off in La Grange, GA where Vernon had referred us ahead to a contact there, named Anton Flores. After arriving at his home, we had a chance to eat a wonderful meal and talk to Anton and his wife, Charlotte, about a community they have started. Alterna Community is a housing collective started by Anton and his wife to provide for immigrants in La Grange. The Flores’ involvement allow immigrants to live in homes rather than trailers and still pay a similar rent, all where earning equity and learning about home ownership. This group of close neighbors meet together almost daily for liturgy, prayer, or a meal, and work at meshing their beliefs, values, and daily lives into one cloth of life.

What impressed me most about Anton’s work was he really didn’t have many models to work from. Not many people have done this sort of shared buying, and I respect him for seeing a need, coming up with a solution, and then running with the idea. So far it seems to be working quite well, and the community is expanding.

After breakfast with the Flores’, we headed back out onto the highway….my knee still bothered me. We had high hopes of making it to Montgomery, about 100 miles distant, that day. We must have been looking extra presentable with our hair just right, because it was not more than half an hour before we got a ride taking us to Greenville, AL, about 140 miles from where we were. We rode with an Apache helicopter technician that had just returned from Afghanistan. He was very interesting to talk to, and we asked him tons of questions about his war experience, but again I felt a clash of beliefs that our conversation never really touched on. I suppose that is part of being in a different culture, even in what seems like a fairly homogenous United States.

We arrived in Greenville around noon, where we leisurely ate lunch. We were pleased with our position, having “ridden” 140 miles that day already, with about 70 left to go. After lunch I approached a huge horse trailer and asked the two silent horsemen from Georgia if they would give Lars and I a ride. They didn’t speak for what seemed like 5 min, finally muttering that, “there’s a lotta’ meanness goin’ around…” and that they would talk about it over their lunch. After emerging, one of the horsemen introduced the other as, “the meanest man in Georgia.” Lars and I both immediately considered the fact that we weren’t actually in Georgia, but didn’t tell the men our thoughts. As soon as we loaded into the cab, the man in the front placed a sheathed knife between himself and the driver, I suppose as a warning to us shady bikers in case we tried to pull anything funny. I smiled to myself as he put the knife away about halfway through the ride as they both warmed up to us.

After saying goodbye to our final ride, we rode the final 1/2 mile to the Poarch Creek Community Church, where we stayed Thursday afternoon through Sunday to rest my knees. As we rode, I recounted the events of the past couple of days in my head. The difficulty and uncertainty of hitching, the many different types of people we met, the split-second choice that people made to pick us up, the good fortune of finding people headed the same way we were, and all the continued hospitality we were shown along the way. It is hard for me not to acknowledge the protection and guidance of God throughout such a process, and I’m not sure it would have been possible otherwise. I am slowly learning how to hand over my current position, condition, and outlook to God, allowing space for the unexpected. I welcome your prayers for our minds and bodies as we continue to exercise both.

Sweet Potato Biscuits!

January 24, 2009 | posted by Lars under recipes, united states | Comments (4)

These biscuits are a delicious way to use sweet potatoes. I think the community ate six batches in two or three days while we were around… and we gladly contributed to the effort!

Jubilee Partners’ Sweet Potato Biscuits

2 C sweet potatoes (puréed)
2/3 C melted shortening or oil
1/3-1/2 C sugar
3-3 1/2 C flour
4 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
2 Tbsp honey

Combine until just mixed. Knead dough lightly and pat to 1/2-3/4″ thick. Cut biscuits and place on greased baking sheet; bake at 350°F for 15-18 minutes or until lightly browned on the bottom. Enjoy warm with butter & honey!

Thirty years at Jubilee

January 24, 2009 | posted by Lars under united states, updates | Comments (4)

I’m writing now from Poarch, Alabama, just a 15 minute drive from the Florida state line; and again, we have a bit of catch-up to do. One week ago, we were in rural northeastern Georgia with the Jubilee Partners, a Christian community committed to living out the peace, simplicity, and service of the biblical jubilee; two nights before we had biked literally over the river and through the woods on the drive leading into the farm where the two dozen community members live, tend the land, and host refugees in resettlement. The next day, while the spring-term volunteers taught EFL classes, we got the comprehensive tour with Al Lawler, and then dirtied our hands in the work of the day: transplanting fig starters in the garden and processing sweet potatoes in the main kitchen.

Entering the garden, you see the tangible fruit of living at peace with the land - the native red clay is buried well below the surface, under 6-12″ of soft, dark soil, enriched over three decades of cultivation. When left to natural processes, the earth accumulates one inch of this humus every 500 years; surely these have been 30 years of the Lord’s favor for these plots in northern Georgia. This land’s bounty surpasses all estimates - this season, Jubilee harvested 6,000 lbs. of sweet potatoes out of 5,000 square feet of garden, and their 1,200+ blueberry bushes bear plenty for Jubilee - fresh, frozen, and in jam - and for their neighbors - around 1,000 invitations are sent out each summer to pick blueberries, free of charge or donation. “That’s the beauty of always being in debt to other people (Jubilee lives largely off the land and by supporters’ contributions),” Blake, a long-term partner at Jubilee, told me as we walked to the fig plants to cut and pot starters which will also be shared, ”you can never give away too much!”

Back in the kitchen, we scrubbed and chopped, boiled, puréed, and bagged a small percentage of the 3 tons of sweet potatoes harvested this year. Now, in midwinter (and it’s been a cold one at that - we had days in the teens (Fahrenheit) while we were there!), sweet potatoes are on the menu for most meals. We consumed the tuber in soup, as fries, in bakes, and in biscuits. Each was delicious, and only foretaste of our travels to come through the Andes, where potatoes are native, and over 5,000 varieties can be found. Carefully tended, the land supports the Jubilee community throughout the seasons, along with 80+ chickens, several goats, and two cows, for eggs, meat, and a variety of dairy products. Their tax is in sweat, withheld by each crop and line-dried shirt; it’s an economy the IRS can’t understand: the good life, below the poverty line.

As I mentioned before, Jubilee Partners also hosts refugees in a village of stand-alone homes called ”The Welcome Center” and teach EFL classes during the week, all free of charge to the refugees, the resettlement agencies, and the federal government. So last Sunday, when we gathered for the evening meal and worship, 20-30 Karen and Burmese refugees (both from Burma) joined us, including some former Welcome Center guests who are in the process of beginning a “Karen Jubilee Partners” nearby. The enactment of the simple, yet abundant life appears to be contagious.

When we rolled back down the lane in the pre-dawn dark Tuesday morning, bound for Atlanta, the farm was quiet and the path was lit only by the moon and our own headlights, but another mornings’ work was already beginning - it was time for Rhoda’s milking (that’s the cow).

Clarence Jordan, co-founder of Koinonia Farm, the parent community to Jubilee, described their work in Georgia as trying to live as a ”demonstration plot for the Kingdom of God.” It seems that this must be the vocation of all Christian communities, regardless of how they organize their community life. Congregation or farming cooperative, the faithful Body of Christ must proclaim with each sinew, as its Head did, that

“The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
because he has anointed me
to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
and recovery of sight for the blind,
to release the oppressed,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” (Luke 4:18-19, cf. Isaiah 61:1-2)

Photos…

January 23, 2009 | posted by Lars under photos, united states | Comments (6)

Virginia

January 6-9, 2009

North & South Carolina

January 10-15, 2009

Blessings, Baptists, and Bantam Chef

January 15, 2009 | posted by Jon under united states, updates | Comments (14)

Yes, I do have internet again this morning (at a hotel!), and the story behind it is rather incredible (at least to Lars and I), so we thought we’d share it with you. We got into Union, SC last night around 5. As usual, we went to the local public library to check email, update this site, and figure out our next steps. As we were leaving, we asked the librarians which churches they thought would be willing to let us stay in their building for the night. They told us to check out Tabernacle Baptist Church, saying “that’s probably your best bet.”

Boy was it ever. We entered the church right as Choir practice was starting and the Wed. evening sermon was concluding. After talking to a couple of people, our reputation soon preceeded us, and a number of church members were working on setting us up with accomodations . After tossing around the idea of sleeping in the church’s gym, which would have been more than fine with us, they decided to get us a hotel room, saying, “We’re going to do something better for y’all.”

That seemed to be the theme for the evening. As we were getting directions to the hotel and trying to thank the people of Tabernacle Baptist as best we could, a lady handed us each $5, saying that we could go get something to eat across the street at the Bantam Chef, a Southern fast food chain that has now become my favorite restaurant in the genre.

So we took her advice and headed over to the Bantam Chef, which apparently was owned by a member of Tabernacle Baptist Church. Upon learning who we were, the owner told the wonderful ladies at the front counter to “take care of us.” That manifested itself in the form of two huge cheeseburgers “with everything” (chili, tomatoes, lettuce, mayo, mustard, and ketchup), as well as generous servings of cole slaw, fries, and soda.

After delightfully devouring this meal, we sat in the booth of Bantam Chef, stuffed and satisfied. It was just then that we recieved a phone call from Steve, a reporter with the local radio station. I talked to him for a couple of minutes on the phone, fielding theological questions such as, “What do you ”Mehonites” believe?”, “Do y’all believe in heaven and hell?”, “Do you believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God and our Lord and Savior?”

Steve showed up in the next 15 minutes, and a brief interview (complete with stuttering soundbyte supplied by Lars and I) was conducted, but what was really interesting to me was the discussion of theology that ensued in that local fast food joint. We spoke with Steve for a while about who the Mennonites are, how they differ from the Baptists, and what commonalities all religions share. It was clear that he was personally interested in our trip, and it was good to fellowship with him.

Full of food and good conversation, Lars and I gleefully rode to the hotel room provided for us at the Days Inn (which, we were told, was “just about the nicest hotel we have.”), told the clerk our names, and he handed us the keys to a heated, dry room complete with a hot shower and two wonderful beds. We sat there, still in our bike clothes, shaking our heads at what had just taken place that evening. I am still processing it further, but suffice it to say that God is good, and sometimes more than good, for reasons we don’t yet understand.

The $1 donation

January 14, 2009 | posted by Lars under reflections, united states | Comments (4)

I wrote this in my journal on Sunday about our time at Rutba House, but am only now getting to post it because of a combination of our internet access and schedule. For a bit of context, though names have been changed, Jamaal is a child at Rutba House, Zane is a lifetime Walltown resident, and Rutba One is one of two houses Rutba folks live in. More will come about our current affairs - and there is much to share! - soon.

I have to tell the story about Zane, and with it the story of Claire. This evening, after supper, Jeff walked into Rutba One, as he had several times before throughout the weekend. Zane is a slave - to alcohol - and his master makes him shoplift and steal things like Super Soakers to give to Jamaal. This time, he came bearing no such gifts, but he was drunk; and this time, the conversation turned to the guests - us - and our journey, which was incredible for Zane to comprehend. He kept asking, “‘ey… ‘ey… how you gettin’ there?” and whether it’s farther than Colombia, and warning us that there’re a lot of crazy people out there. At one point, though, when the concept connected with him, he said, “‘ey… man…” as he dug around his pockets to pull out three crumpled ones. “I ain’ rich,” he said, “but take this,” as he offered me one of them. “You’ll need it.” I took the dollar and thanked him for it, trying to fathom this gift. Not two days earlier, Jon & I had played the receiving end of a similar situation with our host Claire, who handed us each a sum of cash, insisting, “you might need to get a hotel room… you know, with his leg and all.” Accepting these gifts are humbling reminders of the economics of providence, which have supported us both serendipitously and lavishly already, less than a week into our journey. We are provided for - and that, well - and we are reminded of Christ’s words, “freely you have received, now freely give.” May such abundance always flow through our lives.

How to ride pain free…

January 14, 2009 | posted by Jon under united states, updates | Comments (5)

Unfortunately, I don’t really know the answer to that subject quite yet. It has been a frustrating process dealing with one thing or another since Day 2 of our trip, but I can say things are on the upswing and I’m learning an incredible amount about bike biomechanics.

I hitch-hiked into Durham last Friday with some pretty bad pain in both of my Achilles tendons. I spent Saturday morning trying to find bike shops that knew what they were talking about fit-wise, and luckily I found one. The Bicycle Chain of Durham, NC gave me a free bike fitting complete with all kinds of gadgets, but it really just lowered my seatpost.

While at Rutba House I also did a fair amount of icing and Aleve-eating to help myself out. On Sunday, Lars, Rutba House members, and I went to a church service at St. John’s Missionary Baptist Church in Durham. During the service, both Lars and I were called up unexpectedly and prayed over by the pastor and others for healing and safety. We have yet to find out if the pastor knew about our trip….

Leaving Rutba on Monday made me quite nervous, but I was able to ride the 80 miles to Asheboro without any tendon pain. However, both of my knees started acting up during the ride due to a seatpost that was too low. So now I am back to the process of adjusting my seatpost, taking Aleve, and rubbing Flexall on both of my knees to be able to ride relatively pain free. The pain comes and goes, and it hasn’t gotten much worse or subsided, so I’m just waiting it out. I’d appreciate your prayers and thank you for the concern many of you have shown thus far. I’m hopeful about the situation, because I know that it takes a while to get used to the rigors of bike touring, and because we have built in a number of rest days. Lastly, I guess semi-hopefully, I have 8,000 more miles to figure out a comfortable riding position…..I just hope I find one before I get to Paraguay.

Rutba House

January 13, 2009 | posted by Lars under united states, updates | Comments (8)

God is good! Last night, we rolled into Asheboro, NC looking for a place to set up our tent, but after a stop at the library, we were being hosted by a doctor and his wife just outside of town! We’re glad to be keeping up the no-tent record, given that night temperatures are dipping into the 20s.

Anyway, it’s been the better part of a week now since our last substantive update, but we’ve been off the bikes for much of that time, at Rutba House in Durham, NC. Rutba House is a Christian intentional community in Durham committed to “a new way of life in community.” Rutba was formed almost six years ago in response to the hospitality several of the members received in Iraq when a vehicle in their CPT delegation convoy wrecked on a piece of shrapnel in the desert, near the town of Rutba. Even though the U.S. had bombed the hospital there just three days earlier, a local doctor treated their injured and refusing payment, asked only that they tell the story of what happened in Rutba.

So this small community in North Carolina has committed themselves to sharing this hospitality and becoming part of the community in the Walltown neighborhood of Durham. They recognize that this will take time, so they’ve given their lives to it, and mean to live their whole lives out in that community.

Now, everything we learn about progress assumes upward social mobility - that people should work for higher social class, marked by more opportunities in terms of employment and lifestyle - but folks at Rutba are turning this on its head, saying we don’t need the world at our doorstep if we have neighbors there, and Christ as our center. This is radical, I think, but most fully in the true sense, of getting back to the root of “community.” This “downward mobility” is in effect a statement of submission to the community, “You’re more important than my personal fulfillment. In fact, you are integral to my fulfillment in Christ.”

This commitment aside, Rutba is a pretty “normal” when it comes to intentional communities. You don’t have to be a hippy or a tree hugger to live there - in fact, as one of the members, Susan, said, “anyone could live here and it would feel normal.” With two married couples and three under five years old, the community is growing fast; Taize songs are punctuated with bowls of Kix cereal, and the running commentary of the four year-old keeps everything from fasting to long church services in perspective.

More to come on Jon’s health and on generosity, hopefully tonight. We need to get on the road to Charlotte.

In the news…

January 9, 2009 | posted by Jon under press, united states | Comments (2)

The Mennonite Weekly Review Article:

http://www.mennoweekly.org/2009/1/12/humble-way-travel/

The Intelligencer Journal Article:

http://blogs.lancasteronline.com/potholes/2009/01/07/local-cyclist-departs-for-paraguay/

The EMU article by Jim Bishop:

Who we are: