Aurel et Marion, de Francaise

When I first heard the conversation behind me I thought I misheard. Two young people motorcycling across the US. With French accents.
So, me being me, I had to ask them about what they were doing. And the pair, Aurel and Marion, did indeed confirm it. They were riding across the US. Not for charity. Not for any cause. Just for fun.
But it was the rest of the story that amazed me. Prior to crossing the US, they had crossed South America. And prior to that they had crossed Africa. And AFTER the US, they are going to cross Asia.
I asked Aurel, 28, how they could afford to do that. “We left out jobs to ride,” he said. Marion, 27, confirmed it. When they return to France, they will have to get jobs again.
“We’ve had a lot of nice people here put us up for the night, “ Aurel told me. Later, as I was leaving the McDonalds where I met them, Aurel came running out to get a photo of me. He asked me to pose with the McDonalds sign behind me. Im not sure if it was a compliment, but he said, “It looks more American.”
The pair have a blog at www.the-great-adventure-fr and it is in both French and English. Give it a look

The RV Park that is a bus station

Kit and Teresa are bikers. They love to ride. Except, they don’t get to ride much.
Kit, in his late 40’s or early 50’s, has long, greying hair that he keeps in a neat pony tail. Teresa is an attractive woman with a quick smile and nice reddish hair. They own the RV Park that also doubles for the Greyhound station in Delta, Colorado.
They bought the place three years ago, when it was a falling down mess, and have lovingly and painstakingly fixed it up to a level that I can attest is very very high. Nice services, nice people, 69 lots almost full to capacity, and another 19 waiting to be approved by the powers that be. Except that the powers that be, a bank, are playing hardball, when they should be lobbing softballs at these people. Kit and Teresa bought the place after moving here three years ago from Milwaukee. It was just as the the bottom was falling out of the market and they ended up with a high interest rate, and over the past three years have not only not missed a payment but have paid out over a quarter million dollars in interest to the bank. And the bank is screwing with them now when they want to improve and expand. The bank oughtta be ashamed of themselves, to be sure. They, Kit and Teresa have worked hard to make this place nice and it shows.
And toward that end, they have not been able to enjoy life like they should. “Ive put 500 miles on my bike this year, “ says Kit. That’s it. Five hundred miles in a year is a couple of days worth of riding. Why should good people have to work so hard for so little time for themselves. They still have not cut themselves a check for their labor, and that is a shame. They take it in stride though. Teresa says, that when she gets too stressed, she takes a few days off and runs back to Wisconsin to see her kids.
Llife shouldn’t be about having to escape. Life should be about enjoying each day. Every single one of them.

July 16, 1981....the day the music really died

We all have heroes. Some of them are religious, like Jesus. Some of them are athletes. Mine tend to be musicians. Not all but some.
For example—I count as heroes people like Nelson Mandela, who was imprisoned for 27 years for no other reason than the color of his skin, and for protesting the situation in his native South Africa. Did his time, came out, unbelievably became president of the very country that threw him in jail, and then FORGAVE his jailers, and set about to change the way that the two factions lived and worked together. In this country we cant get government leaders to agree on lunch. We thought we had a Mandela in Obama, and maybe time will show him to be one. Time always tells.
Other heroes of mine are Muhammad Ali, Bob Dylan, Woody Guthrie, and for the longest time of all of them, Harry Chapin. Why? Well, lets just say that since my second concert going experience, a double bill with Don McLean at Vassar Chapel in Poughkeepsie, NY, I have been enthralled by Harry’s music. It’s not Dylan. It’s not even John Denver. His music was his very own, a storytelling genius with a sense of humor, a down to earth humility and a heart as big as a heart can be.
I saw Harry perform 8 times over the years. I never saw his band. Why? Because when Harry performed solo, it was a benefit. And after the shows, he would come out in the lobby, “Sign anything you want signed” as he’d say, and just rap with you. I got to “rapping” with him so often that he knew my name the last two times I saw him play and he’d take extra time out for a young man who needed that at that time of his life, and I will be forever grateful for his few extra minutes of talking and good will.
He often spoke about the issue of hunger in the world, a world that produces enough food to feed every single being on the planet twice over. In that spirit, he started World Hunger Year, and he put his money where his mouth was, giving away about half the money he ever made to charities, and starting a worldwide awareness of the problem, which continues to this day.
At the broadcast of his 2000th concert, he spoke of how he had worked for one of his own heroes, a man named Allard Lowenstein, a congressman from New York whose hart was in the right place. Lowenstein was gunned down by a disturbed young man many years ago, and Harry lost of his heroes. When Harry died, on July 16, 1981, of a heart attack following a devastating car accident on the Long Island Expressway, I lost one of my heroes, and it still stings to this day.
As Bruce Springsteen said at the tribute concert to Harry, “Do something, and may his songs be sung.”
I have done something. This walk across the country is my way of helping raise a few bucks, keep the people I meet aware of the problem, and generally to spread the word about Harry, and his mission. Several of the bicycle riders I have encountered have pulled their iPods out and shown me that they have Harry’s greatest hits programmed on their players. This is more than cool for me and all of a sudden we have a common bond. How can you listen to 30000 Pounds of Bananas and not crack a smile? Or listen to Mr Tanner and not think about the failed singer in all of us? Or Cat’s in the Cradle, and not think about the times your dad wasn’t around when you needed him. I certainly relate to that one, rest his soul. My dad was a good guy, but he was just soooo busy…..
So Harry, who died, ironically, when that big heart gave out on July 16, 1981, still lives on as long as his songs are sung. And they will be for a very, very long time.
People of conscience and action are becoming more and more common, but none of them are as approachable and as down to earth as Harry was. They would never take the time to learn the name of a young man who needed a kind word at a critical time, as Harry did.
Now, he is gone, and we mourn that loss.
So, in closing, those of you who can read this: Get off your asses and DO SOMETHING.

biketheusforms.org

Whilst sitting at the Sapinero Village Store, petting Rosie, the beautiful Golden Retriever that owns the front porch of the store, a trio of bicycle guys pulled in. Rosie checked them out, declared them okay to come aboard, and then returned to being a dog. I engaged them in conversation.
The three of them, and their names are not important, were riding across the US from Virginia to San Francisco, and what is important is this: they are doing it to promote awareness of the fight against Multiple Sclerosis (MS) and they were part of a larger group of 16 riders and four support vehicles (to carry water and supplies).
What is different about this group is the fact that one of the riders, a 25 year old guy, actually HAS MS, and is making the trip to help fight his own ailment. He looked as healthy as can be, and when I asked him how he was feeling, he told me that he was really good, and that the medicines he was taking, medicines that are only in existence because of the long running battle against the disease, are actually keeping him out of a wheelchair.
The medicines work. Still, more work needs to be done and more awareness of the situation can only help raise the money needed to further the research and development of even better drugs, and maybe even a cure someday. Im happy to do my part.
Their website is www.biketheusforms.org

The Sapinero Village Store

Jim Murphy and Jeri Tharp are “two old retired people”, as Jeri puts it. But, unlike many “old, retired people” they aren’t sitting around with idle hands. They are working hard to make a silk purse from a particular old sow’s ear.
The little town of Sapinero, Colorado now sits on the southern side of Route 50 as it winds through western Colorado. I say now sits because where it used to sit is on land that is now the incredible and beautiful Blue Mesa Lake, a man made reservoir. It was created in 1965 when the Blue Mesa Dam was built, and is now the largest body of water in Colorado. When the dam was opened to let the waters in, it took away forever what used to be the town of Sapinero. To preserve what could be saved of the original town, many of the buildings were physically moved to the south side of the highway, up onto a hillside, facing the new lake. The building known as the Trading Post was one of them.
The years passed and the owners of the Trading Post let it go to hell. And then it closed, and stayed that way for some time. Until Jim Murphy and Jeri Tharp, a married couple, decided to invest a bundle in the place and get it up and running again.
It is open for business. It’s not a 7/11. Its not a Kum n Go, but it is a place where you can get chips, soda and other cold drinks, candy, and where you definitely will get a big dose of good vibes and real conversation and a chance to play with Rosie, the couple’s great Golden Retriever, who keeps a friendly watch on the front porch, where a view that is hard to beat can be had: the Blue Mesa Lake.
The pair is planning more for the building, and Jim is working on renovating the adjoining section of the building for a tavern, with food, self serve. He has really made some strides in that direction, and the difference between what he has already re-worked and what was there originally is startling. It is a small community, but the locals do need a place to get basics and passerby like myself and especially bike riders need a welcome break from the monotony of the road. There are also cabins behind the store, up on the hillside for rent at a very good price, and save for the fact of no phone service, I might have stayed a night to rest.
It seems that there are many many bikers (bicyclists) who are crossing the US via the route that I am taking, and are only a day away from Utah, and the great Basin, where it can get pretty rough if one is not prepared with enough water and supplies. Jeri and Jim are constantly telling bikers the real deal, and Im sure its not something they want to hear. As Jim says, there are signs in Utah that say, “No ANYTHING for 130 miles.” That’s why I have opted to bus through Utah and Nevada. No sense killing myself. Besides, I need to be healthy to come back to the Sapinero Village Store and the tavern when it is finished. In a car next time though.

Bury me not on the lone prairie....

William Newberry lost his brother Joe almost thirty years ago.
“He smoked three packs a day. I used to smoke too, but I gave them up a long time ago.”
I mentioned Joe Newberry to William after a walkthrough of the Cimarron Cemetery, a true wild west graveyard, located just off Route 50 in Cimarron, Colorado. Sagebrush dominates the lot, and the grave markers are almost impossible to discern among the ragged old weeds. But they were there, including Joe Newberry’s white marble marker, indicating that he had been a soldier in World War II.
William was in the war too.
“Joe went in in 1943 and I signed up in 1944, and ended up in Italy. I wanted to be a pilot or a tail gunner,” he told me. “ But I was a mechanic in dad’s old shop across the way.” William gestured in the general direction of “across the way” and continued. “They gave me a bunch of tests, and after they were all done they made me a…mechanic.” Laughing, he turns serious. “After I saw what was happening to the pilots…their life span was a lot shorter, let’s just put it that way. I didn’t want to be a pilot any longer. I was happy to be a mechanic. It was safer.”
William and his wife have been married for 63 years and run the little store named after his wife and himself in Cimarron. There is also a post office and a gold panning setup there, to attract tourists.
And of course the old cemetery is there as well. I asked William about a strange thing I noticed in the graveyard—five graves, very nicely and recently landscaped and covered with red and white rocks. Of the five members of the Berry family, Rufus, Henry, Lloyd, Audry and Lon, only two of them managed to make it out of childhood, dying at ages 19 and 26. The others died at 2, 11 and 1 day. I asked William about the family, and if he knew them, and what had happened.
“Well, that was the time of the flu epidemic, and it was bad around here. The only kin to them that I know is I.T. and he lives up the road a bit. He comes down and takes care of the graves once in a while.”
I mentioned that there seemed to be a lot of children’s graves there, to which William said that many children back in those days died at birth. Thinking about what a wild and rough place it is even today, out here on the western plains and high desert grounds, it must have been almost unimaginable to modern thinking back then.
Still, it was eerie and sad to walk among the sage and think of how many tiny bodies were under the ground, forgotten to all, except the earth. There were many squared off sections that looked like stones or markers might have been there at one time or another. Perhaps whole families are resting there, with only the prairie dogs and jackrabbits and the hot dry winds to keep them company.
Bury me not on the lone prairie, indeed…..

On the Casey Anthony case....

Since the news broke while I am on the road, I feel it is okay to mention the Casey Anthony verdict, and my thoughts on it.
Our justice system isn’t perfect. Obviously we all feel like she got away with murder, but none of us really knows the truth. The same with the OJ Simpson case. It is still better to let a million criminals get away with their crimes than it is to send one innocent person to jail, or their death.
What needs to happen, in my opinion, is that the system needs a tweaking. As times change and modern technology evolves, it behooves us to make sure the system evolves with it. The cult of celebrity world that we live in (Remember—we so crave “celebrity” that when we run out of real celebrities, we create them from nothing. Hence TV like the Jersey Shore and reality cooking shows and…all of that folderol.
A side effect of that is this: people on juries now know that the case they are sitting on will be broadcast. They know that the media will be contacting them. They know a book deal looms, making them a quick fortune for sitting and answering questions from a ghost writer. There was a time, and the rule is still in effect, that members of a jury were supposed to have no prior knowledge of a case, or at least be as neutral as possible. In this day and age with every man, woman, child and parrot having a cell phone and internet access in their cereal bowl, it is impossible to guarantee judicial purity in the jury system. Television cameras are an aphrodisiac, and the bigger the case, the hornier these jurists get for the book deal and face time on the TV news. Can we stop it? I doubt it, at this point. If the laws change to stop the broadcasting of high profile court cases, there will be hue and cry from the media about censorship. Sometimes freedom of speech is used as a weapon…
So what to do? What can we do? Crimes will still be committed. People will still be murdered. Attractive women defendants will still be offered big bucks to show their bodies in slick skin magazines. Some moron will always hold up a marriage proposal sign in court when a Casey Anthony, or another attractive woman is on trial for some heinous crime. It is the world we live in, I guess. The bottom line looms large in all our lives and it takes a certain amount of integrity to ignore that bottom line and focus on what is really important in life. Do we think about how much money we can make from something ? Hey, if Casey Anthony is going to be rich, why can’t I? THAT mindset has to go.
And the system needs to go backward. It needs to return to the time when court artists were tasked with drawing the events in court, the lights and cameras were not present, and the juries and lawyers could focus on their jobs. I see Marcia Clark, OJ’s prosecutor, who, by the way, LOST her case, with her stretched out face on Court TV or whatever it is called now, and I see it as plain as day.
Wanna watch compelling TV? Put on Big Brother…..I mean…..Jersey Shore…I mean…oh, never mind.