Archive for June 11, 2008
More from Georgia…..
Tuesday, Hard Labor Creek State Park
It’s Nora again, bringing you morning group blogging from Hard Labor Creek State Park, which was a Civilian Conservation Corps project during the Depression. After a much needed break, we finally rolled out of Atlanta Monday morning, through some serious suburban sprawl and at least one unfortunate sharp object that attacked Heather Mooney’s wheel. We also got Megan diagnosed, and although she did break the arm, it’s not nearly as bad as it could be.
We’re in the market for a tandem, preferably a recumbent tandem, that Megan and I can ride from Charleston to New York City, so if you have one we can borrow we’ll pay for shipping!
It’s striking how much wealthier Georgia is than Alabama, and how much development there is. What were recently forests have been converted into tract homes that advertise “granite countertops” and “side by side washer and dryer!” It’s much harder to find covert places to pee, leading at least some of us to semi-traumatic dreams about peeing in public. We spend more time than you would imagine thinking about places to pee, and the development has led to some close run-ins with homeowners to whom we’d rather not explain what we’re doing in their front yards.
We’re moving into Georgia pine forests, on our way to Augusta tracing the footsteps of General Sherman’s march to the sea. Although I thought that the South was just always hot, apparently this heat is more oppressive than usual. It was easily in the triple digits yesterday, and we spent a good bit of time resting in the shade.
It’s been interesting traveling through the places we’ve read about in textbooks, seeing for ourselves the landscapes that are overlaid with the story of this country. We talk as a group about the ways in which we are playing out history, both the valuable, empowering traditions of women and witches and mothers and the negative, debilitating history of mistrust and isolation that is part of our legacy. We struggle with the ways that we are not as good to each other as we should be, and we are working to create a space and a group that honors each of us, our histories and our truths.
Our bodies, our bikes
Today we are pleased to bring you a new adventure in blogging from Augusta, individual group blogging. In order to convey more fully the depth and tenor of the Wanderlust experience, we will choose a theme and bring you individual entries on that theme. Today, our theme is our bodies, and how we’re relating to our bodies two weeks in.
Hi. This is Becky. After more than two weeks on the road, each of us notices little ways that our bodies are changing. It’s good to see the muscles developing, but often painful as we feel muscles we didn’t know were there. But one “body” thing I’ve become aware of is how we’re never quite clean. Biking in summer is a sweaty and often greasy business. But ironically, it’s the goop we put on ourselves that leaves us constantly sticky. In the morning it’s sunblock and chamois butter. After our showers it’s bug repellent and aloe for the sunburn. I’ve given up feeling clean.
Hello. Its Kathleen. My body is tanned and bug bitten. My body is sore and often I feel out of shape. Its one pedal at a time for me…My body is not feeling too good now. I fell in a ditch in a construction site and my foot got caught and stuck and I believe it is twisted. It does not feel good. In the end, my body will be strong.
Megan here. Unfortunately, I’ve been feeling physically disconnected from the trip after injuring my arm on the Silver Comet Bike Trail as we coasted into Atlanta on Friday afternoon. For the time being, I’m the SAG wagon co-pilot and navigator, but I miss riding my bike tremendously. I miss pushing my body to the brink of exhaustion each day and arriving at camp in the evening overwhelmed by a delirious sense of achievement and pride. I miss the topography, the landscape, feeling each subtle incline and not-so-subtle pothole as I pedal across the South. I hope that I can hop back on my bicycle very, very soon.
Hi, Elizabeth here. I was reminiscing yesterday on my bike in the 101 degree heat about how it seems that my body and mind are finally just about on the same page. Rather than feeling a certain bitterness over the shapes of the earth as we pedal to NYC, I feel (relatively) at peace with the balance of the earth’s hills and valleys. Of course I’ll always be sore, tired and covered in that sludge created by mixing sweat, sunscreen, chamois butter and road muck, but it looks like making my life on a bike for 5 weeks is possible, perhaps even pleasant. hellooo
hellooo this is megumi. on the first day of orientation, last may 24th, stacey told me, “hydration is a process not an event.” this has profoundly challenged and altered my relation to WATER. somewhere in alabama i got a camelbak contraption and it has totally revolutionized my drinking habits. ohhhhh this is my first time typing on this blog so i have so much more to say, but i have so many things to do this morning so we can cross yet another state line into SOUTH CAROLINAAAA!!! who knew you could bike across a state in two days? i have one more thought related to “our bodies, our bikes.” ive realized that cycling is a man’s sport activity primarily because we dont have prostates. its all really rad to reclaim the bike form and know that it is possible for us womyn to enjoy biking across the south east.
H. Moon live from Georgia. Ah, my body….as I type I still have tingles in my right pinkie and ring finger. Every since the first few days of bicycling I’ve lost feeling in them. My legs are always sore, stretching is mandatory! Riding all day, dealing with the continual dynamics of the group, tension mounts in my neck and shoulders….sleeping without a pillow doesn’t help this either. Slathering sunscreen, chamois butter, bug screen, aloe, lotion, gels, ointments, etc. all over my body along with the ever present sweat makes for a nearly permanent sheen on my skin and some funky levels. Food and water are consumed nearly every moment and my tummy lives in a semi-turbulent space. Showers and sleep have never felt so sweet and so short lived. The body and the bike are one through a interesting balance in perpetual navigation and awareness.
Elisa writing now. oooh, my body, my dear body. i’m so glad its carried me this far. my body mirrors my mind in terms of the peaks and lows it has experienced- sometimes those hills go so slowly, with sweat sprinkling off my arms and running in my eyes, and sometimes (often occurring when music is pumping in my ears) my body surprises me with its power and attack of the mountainous lump of earth and asphalt in front of me. i’m proud of my body, but i still like to moan over its sore status. i’m also still weary with bug bites, even deet doesn’t seem to ward them off. i’ve recently turned to the comforts of tea tree oil.
erino with somethinsomethin to say. my body is such a metaphor for this transitional time in my life. caught between physical longterm spaces that i can call my own, this nomadic lifestyle speaks to my physical self and my heart. Yes!, parts, places and people of this trip have invited me to engage my body, heart included, in a fire-y way! Funny how everything seems unexpected even as I believe I came to wanderlust without expectation and have stayed open to the crazee beauty possible on a daily basis. Pretrip, I thought of Wanderlust (the one dimensional, yet to be experienced version) as something beyond the very respected possibilities of my imagination. and yet now the tour has taken its own shape/identity, very similar to my bodily response to all the stimuli of the last two weeks. I’m reminded over and over that my body is my own and is so connected to the bodies/souls of this cuntree and these womyn. my body is a part of the whole. Yes! If i listen, i can hear this biked up adventure wih these womyn and my body whisper “remember me, trust me.”.
And now Nora, and my life on the bike. Rhonda and I, as you know, are practically one being at this point, we travel through the world seamlessly and congruently, flowing down roads and over hills with more grace and speed than either of us have on our own. I feel strong, now, stronger than I ever have, and it’s strange to realize that strength comes not just from being young but from being seasoned, from working my body in new and unfamiliar ways. I also realize, two weeks in, that I feel as much or more at home here than I do anywhere else – on the open road reveling in the sunshine, looking to sleeping outside under the stars.
And a quick hello from Heather… bringing up the rear this morning after the mad scramble of eating pancakes with our host, packing and loading the van, and drumming a beautiful djembe drum! We’re writing on the topic of bodies and it’s an incredible hurdle for me each morning to believe my body is going to make it through the day again and again. It’s not just the tired, achy feeling that doesn’t leave until after the first ten or fifteen miles of riding but realizing that yes, my body can do it and it’s really all about the mental over the physical, mind over matter.
Vanessa Renee here updating a day late because of distracting bike issues with Dean…My body feels tight and itchy, covered in bumps and red patches from constant exposure to bugs and sun. I’ve noticed a few small scars on my arms and ankles which make me feel proud of my progress so far and help me remember the challenges I have faced each day. This morning, my arms and legs ache in a new way after riding Elisa’s bike on yesterday’s ride instead of my own. I’ve realized that my body has adapted to Dean so much that attempting to ride another bike feels forced and presents the most difficult physical challenge yet.
