I have way too much free time this semester and have decided not to go crazy by keeping in touch with friends from the bike trip, making new ones, and engaging people in the kinds of conversations we had during the trip. It doesn't have to center around biking though. also, a lot of people still ask me how I am adjusting to life after the trip or want to know about my plan to visit the orphanage in Zambia. If you are interested, let me know.
also I am now a member of the Chicago Biking Federation. Check it out at http://www.biketraffic.org/
-Marcus (bored as nails!) Simmons
mailmsimmons1@gmail.com
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Debriefing?
It's been a long, long while. I don't know if anyone reads this anymore, but it has finally come time for me to debrief the trip.
I've been reading a lot, since the trip ended, about living close to the land, living off of the land, living in the rhythms of our earth. As I read the stories of a couple families who lived in this way that so many of our ancestors did, the landscapes of this past summer pass through my head, clicking from one to the next like an old-time slide show. For these images, I am grateful.
Tonight I sat at supper with my father and he mentioned the word "petroglyphs." "We saw petroglyphs!" I exclaimed. "Somewhere in the desert... Nevada, I think. Yes, it was eastern Nevada." (To avoid scandal, only Eric saw the petroglyphs, the rest of us were too lazy to venture further off our route!) And suddenly, I missed the trip.
This summer, I accepted that I am a midwestern-er. And I became proud of that fact. Through the desert, I awoke in the morning and wished I were "somewhere normal, like the midwest." Through the mountains, I wished I were in the midwest. Out east I wondered how people farmed among the hills. Wouldn't it be easier to move to the midwest, where our land is gloriously flat, I wondered. But tonight, snug in my midwest home, I became homesick for the desert. Yes, the desert.
More so, I am homesick for the feeling of dirt pressed hard against the soles of my feet, for the feeling of bedding down in a tent, breathing fresh night air. For the stars in the sky and grass that tickles my tender skin. For the days when the horizon seems so far away, and the days when the sky seems to stop short. For sand and tumbleweeds blowing through eternal open-spaces, and for crops that rise miraculously from rich soil, heeding the warmth of the sun.
Yes, I miss the trip.
Peace,
Emily
I've been reading a lot, since the trip ended, about living close to the land, living off of the land, living in the rhythms of our earth. As I read the stories of a couple families who lived in this way that so many of our ancestors did, the landscapes of this past summer pass through my head, clicking from one to the next like an old-time slide show. For these images, I am grateful.
Tonight I sat at supper with my father and he mentioned the word "petroglyphs." "We saw petroglyphs!" I exclaimed. "Somewhere in the desert... Nevada, I think. Yes, it was eastern Nevada." (To avoid scandal, only Eric saw the petroglyphs, the rest of us were too lazy to venture further off our route!) And suddenly, I missed the trip.
This summer, I accepted that I am a midwestern-er. And I became proud of that fact. Through the desert, I awoke in the morning and wished I were "somewhere normal, like the midwest." Through the mountains, I wished I were in the midwest. Out east I wondered how people farmed among the hills. Wouldn't it be easier to move to the midwest, where our land is gloriously flat, I wondered. But tonight, snug in my midwest home, I became homesick for the desert. Yes, the desert.
More so, I am homesick for the feeling of dirt pressed hard against the soles of my feet, for the feeling of bedding down in a tent, breathing fresh night air. For the stars in the sky and grass that tickles my tender skin. For the days when the horizon seems so far away, and the days when the sky seems to stop short. For sand and tumbleweeds blowing through eternal open-spaces, and for crops that rise miraculously from rich soil, heeding the warmth of the sun.
Yes, I miss the trip.
Peace,
Emily
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
back to normal life?
Hey Guys. Here is my follow up post:
It has been hard being back on the university campus, but I am adjusting, I guess. I have my days and moments where i really miss being on the bike and being outside on the road. I am currently trying to figure out how to incorporate a lot of the things I have learned on the trip into the "college routine." and it is kind of frustrating, but I'm getting there. I am so glad I did this though and I will remember this for the rest of my life! THanks for all of your prayers and support along the way. Just like we will never know how many lives we touched along the way, you guys have no idea how vital and uplifting your words, prayers and thoughts were.
My hope now is to raise money to go to Zambia and visit the orphanage and bike factory! So pray for my fund raising efforts. Peace!
-Marcus Simmons
mailmsimmons1@gmail.com
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