U turn to Utah

Last time I wrote the blog we were in Rawlings, Wyoming. We were heading north to the mountains. We heard more and more stories of bears eating - ready to hibernate and we experienced a couple of nights of mountain cold. And boy, it gets cold at 8000 feet.

So we decided to change direction. To head south from where we were to cross the Nevada desert and to face the other horror stories about the lack of water. Hopefully a good lesson for life. If you have made a decision, you are not glued to it. You can change your mind and do something different.

Before any of you ask though, this cycling round the world crazy idea is full steam ahead - at the moment anyway.

At first it seemed like a bad choice. Heading west meant staying on the interstate. A 30 mile an hour head wind and trucks whizzing past at goodness knows what speed made it amongst the worst rides of my life. To top it off, the sky was grey and we could see rain in the distance. Destination - Warmsutter - a natural gas boom town.

Natural Gas has become a big thing in America in the last 15 years. Gas is seen as cleaner than coal because of its lower carbon dioxide omissions.
And there are large quantities of gas in and around Warmsutter. BP has increased extraction and created hundred of jobs. It has built roads, living quarters for workers and has paid for a day centre for the town. There is another side to gas extraction - more of that later.

Back to us in the rain. Fortunately the town has also recently acquired a Subway restaurant which was our oasis from the interstate and the oncoming rain. No place for a tent. I called a few motels and whilst I waited for one to call me back, looked up reviews. One described an angry lady and a mouse in a trap behind the TV. We had little choice - more like none.

On first inspection, the room seemed cleanish. There was only one cigarette hole in the sheets and the TV worked. I settled down to tapping away on my iPad and enjoying the not pedalling. I popped to the loo and flushed. Then the water slowly rose. But it did not go down, in fact it came over the top and flooded the Lino floor. Really not a great thing to have happened.

The lady came with a plunger and used the white towels to mop the floor. There was no mention of disinfectant. She brought us some clean towels and the next morning I went down to ask for some of our money back. After some fierce negotiating from me I secured a 10 dollar refund. Roger Cook eat your heart out.

We left Warmsutter as soon as we could. We crossed the old Oregan trail that took settlers west. We were promsised nothing on the road until Baggs. Nothing except bouncing antelope - I didn't even know they existed in the US - as well as the occasional reek of dead skunk - a unique smell I will never forget. The red desert was stunning in its bleakness. We also passed a guy with three horses, riding one of them. Phillipe is riding 10,000 miles on horseback from Canada to Brazil. A lifelong dream passed down from his father and inspired by Aime Tschiffelly’s 1925 ride from Argentina to Washington. Now that is a journey.

At Baggs we followed the rule. Find the bar, talk to folk, go from there. Scott and his family had recently taken over the place and transformed it. We stayed there all night chatting to locals many of whom work in Warmsutter. They very kindly bought us beer after beer - Fat Tyre of course. James was on the Obama campaign trail sensing a Republican stronghold.

'What's wrong with Obama?' he asked one woman.
She raised her eyebrows dramatically. 'He's Muslim.'

This is in one sense is a clever retort. A response protesting he is not Muslim suggests there is something wrong with being Muslim.

'He's not, but if he was, so what?'

Another gas worker said he didn't see why he should have to pay food stamps for a guy swinging on his porch in Tennessee. He promptly offered to buy the well deserving, unemployed James another beer.

Scott, the landlord was a quiet, unassuming cowboy. Basket ball coach to the local school team he had been brought up on a ranch. His father had featured in a 70s documentary called Cowboy and featured in Life magazine. Scott remembered having breakfast surrounded by cameras and lights. His father was also in the military. He had died of cancer in his 50s caused by exposure to radiation from an atomic test.

The United States conducted over 1000 tests of nuclear weapons between 1945 and 1992. The first tests were on the US mainland and troops watched from trenches as the mushroom cloud blasted in front of them. Compensation is available for troops who developed cancers - $75,000 for service men, $50,000 for 'downwinders'. I asked Scott if his family had any compensation. He said 'The government is broke. I'm not going to take their money.' Later tests were conducted on overseas territories in the Pacific. Britain did the same, opting for the Australian outback. Less likely to have people complain.

His answer to the question 'If you could teach the world one thing what would it be? Was 'Don't get upset about the small things. Only get upset abut what really matters.' Good advice.

It is hardly surprising that Wyoming is a Republican stronghold. It is a rich state - rich from coal and gas and one of the very few states with neither personal nor corporate income tax. Wyoming's schools have been well funded as a result. Recently because of a glut in the natural gas market, prices have dropped and Wyoming has chosen to make budget cuts rather than introduce taxes.

As we headed west and crossed into Utah the landscape became lunar. We stayed in the aptly named Dinosaur named after the significant fossil finds in the area.

In Vernal, Utah we met KP who ran the bike shop and who said he had hosted other cross country cyclists before. Too good an offer to pass up. We cut our day short and before long we were camped in the back yard drinking beers and throwing wood into a big pit fire. KP said it was the best kind of therapy. One of their friends James who works for the Bureau of Land Management really got me thinking about America and the land. Utah's rivers, he said, are the most polluted and interfered with in the country.

Between the Utah mountains are fertile basins. These were the areas where different Native American tribes moved to where the food was with the seasons. Once again it was about land.

The Ute reservation was established by Abraham Lincoln in 1861. Then more Native Amerrican groups were moved in from Colorado. You can probably guess what happened next. In 1901 once again the US government decided that actually the area was not 'reserved' for the Native Americans after all. Lots were drawn and the area - or rather the potentially fertile basin area was 'settled'. Duchesne and Vernal were homesteaded and lots were drawn to see who would get each plot. From 1887 to 1934, 90 million acres of Indian reservation land were transferred to non-Indian ownership and control.

James, cycling buddy, and I sat in a bar in Duchesne and worked out that our route to Nevada avoiding highways meant mountains. After coming south to avoid them we realised you can't. We set off suitably late and headed up. We passed Indian reservation land with drilling machines along the climb. The peak was at 9000 feet. On the other side of the mountain we found landscape more like Afghan desert. No communities here. We stayed in a 'ghost town' at 8000 feet. One house. We knocked the door. We asked if we could stay on the land. Thankfully the owners said yes but left us to it. A bleak, cold and Supanoodle night.

The next day we headed further into the mountains. We got to Scofield - a beautiful lake created by a dam, full of holiday properties . We stopped in the only store/gas station/build your own hamburger joint/campground in town for food and a shower. Jim, the owner told us that many people pass through to visit the cemetery. A mining disaster in 1900 had killed at least 200 people. A dust explosion followed by a lack of oxygen caused the disaster. One man, Richard Evans had experienced the horror of a similar mining disaster in Abercarn, Wales 50 years earlier in which he had lost two brothers. Unlucky or lucky depending on which way you look at it.

As we left the town we climbed another huge mountain. Between the beautiful fall colours emerged a coal mine. And then it finally it struck me.

Beautiful American mountains. Air conditioning, polystyrene cups and drinks fountains have a price.

I did some research into gas extraction in the US and feeling like Julia Roberts in Erin Brockovich - oh for her legs -found out about a process called Fracking. This is how most natural gas is extracted in the US. Millions of gallons of water, sand and chemicals are injected, under high pressure, into a well usually around 8000 feet underground. And, here's the shocking bit - natural gas extraction is exempt from the law that says energy companies have to make sure that they don't affect drinking water. A bill to reverse the so called 'Halliburton loop hole' - passed under Bush and Cheney - has yet to be passed by Congress. Check out a film called Gasland which includes footage of people lighting their drinking water contaminated by gas. The process has been banned in France but is about to receive full government approval in the UK.*

Sitting in my air conditioned motel room in Delta, Utah, watching TV, typing on my Ipad having enjoyed a pizza that was delivered to my door I am mindful about any lectures. But having cycled 2800 miles across country and having met so many wonderful people, surely America, now is the time to look after the whole of the country - whichever state you live in. Every little bit matters. Every light switch, every piece of packaging, every car trip.

My questions as a visitor are :

How about drying some washing on a line rather than in the dryer?
Maybe sometimes turn the air con off and open the windows?
Recycling is done in some towns in the US. Why not everywhere?
Does every park in the States need to water the grass over night?
Could you take a walk or cycle around town or buy a more fuel efficient car?

And although it took me a cycle up a beautiful mountain past a coal mine and a visit to the not so beautiful town of Warmsutter to make me realise the connection you don't have to do that. It is not too late to learn from the Native Americans who lived along with nature rather than against her. Each of us is more connected to the land than we think. We just can't always see it.

It is much easier to say I don't know enough about that or I haven't got the time to find out. This only means that those with the information are those with the power. Each of us does have a voice and an influence it's just whether we choose to use it.

The world really does belong to all of us - or rather none of us. Take care of it, wherever you are on the planet.


http://www.journeyamerica.net - the guy riding from Canada to Brazil on horseback.
http://www.gaslandthemovie.com

*http://www.telegraph.co.uk/finance/newsbysector/energy/oilandgas/9557153/IoD-Shale-gas-could-provide-35000-UK-jobs.html

Blank Kansas, flat Nebraska and the beginning of Colorado

Our welcome to McCook, Nebraska was unexpected.

'James it's raining'

I woke up in the tent in a panic. Had we left anything out?

James reassured me.'Mari, the tent is waterproof'

Since we got to the mid-West everyone has said the same.

'We've had no rain this summer. It's been awful. All the corn has died. '

And finally here it was. After the drought, the rain.

Turns out it wasn't actually the rain. It was in fact a stealth sprinkler that had appeared from underground to periodically douse our tent with thunderous droplets. In the middle of the night this was not a welcome surprise. It was lucky we didn't put our tent on top of it. The pipe might have burst through the canvas and gone who knows where.

Just for future reference, any American city planners out there, if you are going to install night time concealed sprinklers in future, please at least put a sign up. The things you don't know about other countries.

I was expecting Kansas to be hot and flat and if I'm honest, a bit dull. Turns out that the north of the state is more flattish rather than flat. And that it has a rich and interesting history and friendly people - not at all blank. But they were right about the heat. The quicker you start in the morning, the better. Pity both of us like breakfast to be slow and easy. Two coffees and the world seems a better place.

It was on one of these boiling days that we took an extended break in a small drug store in Glasco, Kansas and where we ended up meeting Jo Cool who I mentioned in my last blog.

Joanne Cool was of course cool. She reminded me of my late gran. Bright eyed, smiley and engaging. She gave us directions to her beautiful white house on the hill. We cycled along one of Kansas' dirt roads to get there, the evening sun making the big Kansas countryside look even more beautiful.

Joanne's grandparents were original homesteaders. The Homestead Act was passed in 1862 by Abraham Lincoln.

The passage of the bill was only possible because the southern states had seceded from the union. Southerners had been concerned about competition from non-slave owning farmers and had blocked previous bills.

Homesteading meant writing your name in a box on a map in Washington. This was a way of ended land disputes as much as expanding West. If you built a house, improved the land and stayed 5 years the land was yours. And you could mean anyone with the money to pay $640 for $640 acres. Even women and African Americans could have their little piece of America. Everyone that is except the Native American tribes whose land it was in the first place. Joanne's grandparents originally from Wales had come with other family and bought the plot. She showed me the original maps.

Populating a country is add odd idea. Especially when there are other people there. In 1820 the area that is now Kansas was designated Indian territory.The Indian Removal Act of 1830 did what it said on the tin and Native American peoples were moved west to make room for tribes being moved from the east. After 1854 the lands which were found to be very fertile were designated territories and open to white settlement.

One of the legacies of homesteading is the grid system. Not unlike the Romans the Americans decided on a straight road system. Grids, endless north, south, east and west. Roads are alphabetised and as you go west the names became less imaginative. In Glasco the roads were called Eagle, Fawn and Deer. Further west there were D, E and F Road. America is built on the belief that humans can do anything, put roads anywhere no matter what nature suggests.

Another spot in Kansas are pointed to the other side of white settlement. In Oberlin we stopped for lunch in Pizza Hut. Kansas bosts the first ever Pizza Hut (don't think we were in the original), as well as the geographical centre of continental United States and not forgetting the biggest ball of twine in the world. Oberlin is famous for where the 'last Indian raid' took place in Kansas. Those pesky Indians. They wouldn't leave the settlers alone. Language is so powerful. Especially in history. I researched the context for this event.

The Cheyenne tribe were from Montana. Following the Battle of Little Big Horn, where Custer and his men were defeated by a combined force of Sioux and Cheyenne, the Cheyenne were rounded up and forced to move to Indian Territory in Oklahoma. They were promised a great life in this new land. However food rations, warring tribes and no medical provisions meant many died from European diseases or starvation.

Under the leadership of Dull Knife a group consisting of 84 men, 112 women and 134 children escaped the reservation. At Oberlin they attacked some settlers. There are accounts of a baby being strangled and women being attacked on the outskirts of town. The plaque that marks the event has changed over time.

In the original, the words 'murder', 'terrorised' and 'killing' were used.

It said the Cheyenne were 'Harassed only by a small troop detachment and cowboys' and they moved through Kansas killing and plundering.' and left the reservation because they were 'homesick'.

Now, the plaque at least recognises that they were 'forced' to move by the American government and that they were 'embittered by their plight'.

Clearly killing innocent people is wrong but moving indigenous people off their homeland in another context would be at very least considered an act of war.

I was trying to think of another historical equivalent of homesteading or perhaps the modern day equivalent. Settlers on the Gaza strip perhaps? Gentrification in cities? Lebensraum? One of the difficulties with history is that in trying to learn from the choices of our ancestors it is important to not judge them on the values of today or to saddle their ancestors with the full responsibility of past actions. People came to America for a better life.

Once you make people the 'other' and you treat them differently then you are saying human beings are not the same. And once people try and separate people be it in separate schools, an apartheid system, a wall in Palestine or Berlin or even set up different countries for different people, as happened in Eastern Europe after World War One, then you are saying that people cannot get along. And we can and have to get along.

The most common response from everyone we have met to our question 'If you could teach the world one thing what would it be?' has been that people should learn to get along and that we should be tolerant of each other.

We were lucky to watch Julian Castro and Michelle Obama speak at the Democratic convention from the comfort of our friend Sean's mum and Dad's RV. Tolerant, progressive and Christian,Tom and Linda are like many Americans in that they are increasingly loosing faith in Obama citing the economy and healthcare as the big issues. Four years and they are concerned nothing is better. When Michele talked about her and Barack's families she said,

'You see, Barack and I were both raised by families who didn't have much in the way of money or material possessions but who had given us something far more valuable – their unconditional love, their unflinching sacrifice, and the chance to go places they had never imagined for themselves.'

We were told the same thing by Tammy who we met running a bar in Norton, Kansas. We got talking she told us of her own childhood. 'At one point my mom and us kids lived in a car. I remember my mom saying, we might not have much but we have love and that is all we need.'

She showed her capacity to love others in her actions. She and her husband had allowed their daughter's friend to come and live with them - her parents having taken no interest in her welfare. She had to live under their rules and she made the same fuss of her as she did of her own children. For her birthday they made a cake and this was the first she had celebrated. Another unsung hero.

This is what brings America together, the American Dream. The Dream has been redefined to become thankfully more inclusive with politics at least looking more like the real America.

I am mindful of the fact that to get along with all humankind requires a leap of faith. You have to trust people that you do not know and will never know. There has to be a way between naivety and cynicism which allows talented and principled people to make decisions based on decent values.

This trip has only served to secure the faith that I have in our ability as a people to get along. Every story I hear reminds me that we are all looking for the same things in our lives. Love, security and a better life for us and our families.

Elton came to talk to us at breakfast in Holyoke, Colorado. He was 92, remembered ploughing the fields with horses, fought in Europe in World War Two and every day had coffee in the same cafe and then went home to fill his wife in on any news. His father was a 'sod buster' and the first settler to fence off his land but someone else honesteaded it.

The difficulty is we do not start with a blank canvas. History does change how we understand our own present and can shape the choices we make. Understanding its complexities should however create opportunities for us as individuals and as groups. Be it coming up with a healthcare system when an extensive insurance system already exists, a school with a poor record or a country with some wrongs to acknowledge. It is bound to be difficult but it's got to be a worth doing.

Love and hope is all you need - well it's a start at least.


http://www.kshs.org/kansapedia/homestead-act/15142

http://www.smithsonianmag.com/history-archaeology/How-the-Homestead-Act-Transformed-America

http://www.archives.gov/education/lessons/homestead-act/

http://skyways.lib.ks.us/history/sappa.html

Trails of tears

A few days ago the day I expected would come. The day - probably the first of many -when I thought to myself. 'Why did I do this? Why have I left my job which I am good at and enjoy? Why did I think cycling 60 miles a day would be enjoyable?' This followed a long night camping at the back of a church disturbed by a noisy night wildlife, a phone call in the middle of the night and stressful thoughts that expand to epic proportions when in 2 square metres under canvas.

The spot was surreal. A big white church with a beautiful view. Amish horse and carts passed periodically on the road with their 19th century outfits. Yet here we were. Close by was the town of Lebanon where we stayed the night before. Lebanon was the centre of the Corn Bread Mafia and where 100 men we arrested in 1991 for their part in 'growing 182 tons of marijuana on 29 farms in 10 states, ....which federal prosecutors considered to be the largest domestic marijuana syndicate in American history.'* Thanks to Charles for a great night his bar with Ashley and Richard where we learnt about this notorious history.

The day after this sleepless night neither James and I were not well rested, though somehow I found my cycling legs and actually found the miles therapeutic. I wondered to myself if this is why people isolate themselves. To face the thoughts that work and day to day life make you put to one side? Too much introspection cannot be a good thing but maybe time on the road will be give me more calm. Just one night in a hippie town and I'm already sounding like I have flowers in my hair.

Just when it seemed like the day could not get any worse we reverted to McDonald's in Beaver Dam for their free wifi to find out where we might stay. Come on world. Why doesn't someone start a campaign to have no passwords on wifi? The US is better than the UK but surely that would democratise the Internet?

As we left a car pulled up and told us a storm was coming. We'd seen the weather report and the front looked big.

We decided procrastination would be the best strategy. It was time to find food. We were in a little place called Hartford. The town has the amusing slogan 'home of 2000 happy people and a few sore heads'. Sore heads is not a reference to having hangovers as it is another dry town as we discovered when we happened upon a great little restaurant - in fact the only non-chain-fast food place in town - Capers Cafe - run by David and his wife Kim. David had been a chef in restaurants in Alaska for 15 years before moving back home to Kentucky. He met Kim, originally from South Korea working in the local hospital. They had two staff waiting on tables - Madison and Chandler who were delighted that two Brits, and cycling Brits to boot had popped in to their place. The food was freshly cooked, healthy stuff. I had fish tacos and James had breaded chicken - though nothing like the fast food variety. Of course we got chatting and we were about to leave to find the local campground when the crazy wind started blowing the door of the restaurant open. Kim appeared from the kitchen. With the concern of a mother she insisted we could not go out in that and as the rain and the the lightening came it was clear she was right.

A swift plan was made and soon we were leaving our bikes in their restaurant and bundling in to the back of a truck to the home comforts of their countryside home. After a hot shower with a clean towel, our washing being whisked away by Kim, camomile tea and meeting the very cute Kiko - a Boston terrier I was having a wonderful night's sleep in contrast to the night before. How quickly your mood can change, fired by the kindness of more strangers.

Our luck then seen to have changed. I had hit the two week wall I was expecting and after we were on our way. Thank you so much to you both.

So we were off. Heading west again with food in our bellies (scrambled egg and fresh vegetable stir fry breakfast cooked for us by David at the restaurant) and we were back on track. After 23 miles at a stop in Walmart where we tried to get the American cell phone we bought 10 days ago to work

Walmart man 'Sorry you can't talk to a person on a weekend'
Me 'But it's Friday'
Walmart man 'I know. Friday, Saturday, Sunday I only ever get a waiting tone'
Oh well.

It was whilst waiting for this palaver to be taken care of James noticed he had 4 broken spokes on his back wheel. We cycled on but he didn't feel safe - especially with all that weight on the back. The wheel could just crumple at any time. A few miles further we found some wifi and located the nearby 'Bubba's bikes'. Google maps told us where to go. We couldn't find it and knocked on someone's door. 'Oh, you want the 181 north. This is the 181' south' Guaranteed the hills around Greenville were steep. Another 3 miles and we got there.

Unfortunately Bubba's bikes is a Harley Davidson motor bike shop. Despondent we sat outside and had our lunch. The next nearest bike shop was 40 miles in the wrong direction. Just where thought our luck had run out a truck pulled up and a friendly 19 year old Sexton Steele got out. Son of the owner we chatted to him and soon he was making a few calls. A friend who knew a guy who owns a bike shop 70 miles away. Next thing we knew Kirk was arriving in a jeep and taking us and our bikes to his home. Whilst I chatted to his wife Becky, Kirk fitted James' bike with a new wheel, chain and gears. Guardian angels - the lot of them.

We managed a few more miles on the brand new wheel and ended up at Paula and Bobby's - The Short Family restaurant. Paula's great grand father - Cowhard - had come to America via Ellis Island. The men went, leaving the women who never followed. Paula had been to Liverpool to try and find these lost family connections but got nowhere. She let us camp, use the shower and donated the cost of our dinner to our one fundraising efforts for schools in Africa. A girl Allie and a grandma called Cathy looked up our blog and gave money for the cause on behalf of the 'people of Kentucky'. Thank you Kentucky. For everything.

Today we covered 60 miles with improved cycling formation. Part of our route follows the Trail of Tears - a shameful period in US history. America has a relatively short white history and it constantly shocks me what a short time it was that this land was not 'our land'. The Trail of Tears has been also called ethnic cleansing and genocide. Following ominously titled 'Indian removal act' of 1830, President Andrew Jackson sanctioned people being rounded up into camps, then the forcible removal of thousands of native Americans from their lands in the south including around the 17,000 from the Cherokee tribe - 4000 or more of whom are estimated to have died in the camps and on the march. This policy changed by the 1860s and an attempt was made to 'assimilate' all native Americans. This meant banning their ceremonies and celebrations, converting them to Christianity and forcibly removing children under five to attend boarding schools.**

In 2010 Congress passed and Obama signed a bill that included the line “apologizes … to all Native Peoples for the many instances of violence, maltreatment, and neglect inflicted on Native Peoples by citizens of the United States.” It was part of a defence bill and Obama never said the words.

Tonight we are enjoying the hospitality from a baptist church that has welcomed cyclists since 1976. The pastor here talked to us and answered our question what would you teach the world with this. 'Never doubt that anyone's heart can be changed'.

Words of kindness and of apology mean a lot.


*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cornbread_mafia **http://www.crystalinks.com/trailoftears.html
**http://www.amnestyusa.org/node/87342