Days 25 and 26: Dinosaurs, Driving, and deep-ish thoughts

For simplicity, I have been using a pair of simple apple headphones when riding. Unfortunately, whenever traffic gets loud or we’re descending, I can’t hear anything. Amidst the quiet that the noise creates, my mind wanders a lot.

I have been thinking a good amount about the maintenance of systems. Those who know I study mechanical engineering may be rolling their eyes, but hear me out. A couple weeks ago, I noticed a weird squeaking sound from my bike as I started up. Turns out my rear brakes started rubbing my rear wheel that was slightly out of true. I loosened my brakes for the time being, and thankfully we were rolling into Ely that evening, which had a bike shop. As previously mentioned, Ody had been sounding like a Harley. After discussing with my dad, we decided to have the muffler looked at in Pleasant Grove. Turns out a weld had broken in the muffler system. After the fix, Ody was much quieter, and more able to climb these mountains.

Basically, we are surrounded by mechanical systems with lots of moving parts. I’ve learned (sometimes the hard way) if I listen closely to these systems, I can catch issues a lot quicker, and before they come larger. If I ignore these warning signs, I risk these systems degrading further and faster than I can help. Reflecting on my bike one day, I realized that this concept could be pushed further; our team is another system requiring close attention. The other day in Pleasant Grove, we had a productive and helpful team meeting. Perhaps this kind of open communication is a kind of close listening. While I was thinking about this, I watched another green Utah valley slowly pass by. We’ve gone from the hustle-and-bustle of the bay area, to the mid-sized towns of central California, to the boom towns of Nevada, to the tight-knit communities of Utah, on towards whatever Colorado holds. “Forgotten” people is an idea being tossed around in politics a lot in the last few years. Our country could be viewed as another system requiring attention, but wow—there are a lot of parts to pay attention to.

I don’t mean to be advertising as an enlightened, hyper-attentive person. Quite the opposite! As I write this blog, I’m icing knee pain that I’ve ignored for too long. Arguably, I’ve been forgetting to pay attention to one of the most important systems in my life: my body.

My Bluetooth headphones might be able to hold their own against traffic and descents. I just need to remember to charge them… but I do think I should maintain some level of quiet with my biking time. The mind wandering is good for me.

The knee pain caused me to ride in the car the last two days. Though I would love to be on my bike, riding and driving the car brings another kind of enjoyment. Playing support is fun: something about driving down the highway with bikes on the roof, going to help a teammate with a mechanical issue just feels so cool. Katherine and I have spent a lot of time awaiting the bikers at rest stops, discussing any multitude of things, laughing at the specific kind of absurd joke Katherine makes (which I’m slowly learning to mimic). There’s a certain indescribable peace brought by sitting in the back of Ody, watching the other cars rush by.

Anyways, on with the summaries of the days:

Day 25

We started the day with a phenomenal breakfast prepared by out host. As we ate our eggs and sausage, she told us that we MUST visit Dinosaur National Monument. The National Monument was only a slight detour for us, and we only had 3.5 hour of biking this day! (I’m still somewhat amazed that the operative word for that now). Katherine and I went to the store to get some basic supplies, and then we decided to get Ody’s bumper checked out while we were still in town. I was worried that we’d have another jaw dislocation after that accidental dental work (if we’re using Sophia’s terms). The estimator/mechanic Joel (!) came out, took a look, and did a minor repair for free! Then we headed off to Dinosaur National Monument.

Our wonderful host in Vernal!

When we arrived, we received a text that the bikers had taken a wrong turn, and would be about 45 minutes later than expected. Despite the longer-than-expected leg, the cyclists arrived in good spirits. We entered the park, ate lunch, and boarded the shuttle up to the Quarry Exhibit Hall.  

Heading up to the quarry wall

When I entered, I was immediately met by the most dinosaur fossils I’ve ever seen. The wall of the hall was covered with fossils from a whole array of dinosaur species, the fossils partially exposed on the wall. The fossils come from large dinosaurs that drowned in a prehistoric river, and the bones drifted downstream.

The quarry wall

I enjoyed seeing how everyone interacted with the hall. Sophia and Timothy wondered whether it’s inhumane (indinosaurane?) to ogle over drowned dinosaurs. Vincent “found” a pamphlet that showed which bones were from which dinosaurs. Katherine, the earth systems major she is, enlightened us on the geology behind it all. Parth educated us on the difference between an articulated and unarticulated dinosaur.

Taking time to go see a local site during the day felt unique and luxurious. Nonetheless, we had to get on towards our final destination of Dinosaur, Colorado. We stopped for a water break (the temperature was 96 degrees!) and then also paused to take some fun photos at the Welcome to Colorado sign. Three states down!

We stayed at the church in Dinosaur. We were greeted by the treasurer of the city, as well as the mayor, who has lived in Dinosaur for over 50 years. The mayor left his cowboy hat at the hook by the door, and regaled some of us with stories of the booms and busts of Dinosaur, chewing the end of a matchstick in his mouth between sentences. Both of them went above and beyond to help us get situated in the church. We cooked dinner in the basement kitchen of the church, and watched highlights of the Tour de France on my phone together as we ate dinner. I’m humbled by how fast the riders are, though it’s super fun to see how the “pros” ride. We inflated our sleeping mats between the pews, and went to bed.

The sunset over dinosaur

Day 26

We powered through our routine this morning, motivated by a desire to beat the afternoon heat, and also by Timothy’s fun little texts to keep us efficient (“Spokes pro tip: now would be a good time to sunblock”). The bikers went on their way, and I drove to the first rest stop while Vincent and Katherine caught up on sleep a bit. In my route planning, I described today’s ride as “Nevada-like”: rest stops that are actually just small dirt roads, quiet highways, and consistent climbing.

Today, by a combination of circumstances, the riders decided to try riding in separate groups. Instead of regrouping during the ride, and at the rest stops, people split into smaller groups, depending on timing, energy, and the general chaos of this trip that we are at the mercy of. For reasons we don’t yet understand, we completed today in record time, almost beating Google Maps’ time, even with breaks. We debated the merits and downsides of this new method; there is a certain safety to riding in a pack.

Upon arrival to Craig, Colorado, we enjoyed a spot of ice cream from the local McDonald’s, and then arrived at the church. Due to the dearth of publicly available showers, the church’s reverend welcomed us into her home to use her shower. After dinner, Sophia and I watched today’s Tour de France coverage as we iced our knees. We ogled at the cyclists’ ability to speed up 7+% grades, gasped at the crashes, and were humbled that the reigning champion is only 23.

We have a rest day tomorrow, and we are all looking forward to sleeping in.

Onward,

Joel

Day 23 and 24: Sunset(tling)

(Day 23)

We rode 90 miles yesterday from Lindon to Duchesne (pronounced Du-shane. Duchesne not Deschesnes, Timothy was wrong). It was our first ride after a four-day rest and within five minutes of setting out we viscerally felt the inertia (wise Katherine’s term) of our accustomed stationary state – Parth’s handlebars had somehow loosened and hung at an unnatural angle from its stem, and while they and Timothy attempted to figure out the situation, Aja and I sat down in the grass as if miming our last few days in the treehouse.

sunset with Timothy, Parth, and Aja, photo courtesty of Timothy

We seemed to have grown our own roots for this little town in Utah. In one of our group check-in’s about the things we miss most, Timothy brought up missing the state of settling in. With our daily migrations (sometimes of 6 miles and other times of 106), we have lost that place we can return to. Perhaps because of boarding school, I have grown used to not quite having a place to call home, but I have always had that place where I know the nooks and crannies, and where I know I am welcomed. So when we finally began to know the lovely place in Lindon, know the tree branch that I whacked my head on more than once, know the (mildly terrifying) selection of dolls in the bedroom, know the dog Toffee and the cat Gemma, know the freezer aisle of the Asian market (maybe a little too well)...it was hard for us to start not knowing again. 

biking time with Joel

I wished that I could weave in a (relatively) science-y metaphor, about how our great potential energy converted into great kinetic energy and we all felt amazing and biked the speediest of our lives, but we did not, so I guess I will return to the Classics. Honestly, it felt like a (even more) twisted version of the myth of Sisyphus, with every boulder we rolled uphill, an even greater one would be waiting for us at the bottom. The first leg it was Parth’s bike. Ody dislocated their jaw on the second. Joel’s tires were especially attracted to the loose gravel on the third leg. So by the time we got onto the fifth leg, the sun was about to set and a thunderstorm loomed in the (very near) distance.

fixing Joel’s bike, photo courtesy of Parth

Yet with all the rolling down of the boulders, like Sisyphus, we never stopped pushing, literally, up so many hills…And although the boulders grew in size, we always met a kind soul to help us along and alleviate just a little of the crushing weight. Parth was able to find a bike shop right away, and Katherine picked them up like the resident-guardian-angel she is. Sebastian at the mechanics, Joel’s dad, and Joel worked from varying geographical distances to rehabilitate Ody. Robert, who worked in the construction zone on Highway 40 “did not want it on [his] conscience to see [us] crushed by oil trucks on the way up” and very kindly offered us a piggy-back ride on his truck as well as ice-cold water fresh from a cooler. I wonder if Sisyphus had made a few such friends in Tartarus he would find his eternal torture a bit more bearable (...probably not).

Robert’s truck

Riding with our backs to the sunset for the last leg, the sky was the richest deep blue I have ever seen it. Along the rumble strips filled with rainwater, each dimple held a pocket of that oceanic expanse. As we stopped under a double (triple?) rainbow with a golden sunset to our back and all hues of purples and pinks and blues in front, I felt like I had perhaps found the feeling, if not the place, that I can always return to.

rainbow!

the prettiest sky that my iphone cannot do justice

(Day 24)

I think everything went downhill today when I put on white sunscreen instead of green. Which was at 7:30 AM this morning…It is 11:48PM right now and this blog is still incomplete so today is going to be a little look into my brain of sorts:

Biking. Biking. Podcast. Food. Not biking. Groceries with Katherine. Food. More food. Biking. Sad biking. Angry biking. Introspective moment when I thought about how moody and mean I was being. Apologize to Parth about being moody and mean. Think about apologizing to Joel for being moody and mean but end up not apologizing (Sorry Joel). More angry biking. Arrival.

Joel sitting on wood chips with ramen

I will let you all in on my self reflections more the next time I write, but this is the basic rundown of the biking part of my day. Upon arrival we were greeted by the warmest host, April, who made us delicious spaghetti, green beans, cucumbers, and air-fried garlic bread! We all took a (much needed) shower after yesterday’s sink-showers and wood chips-filled bed (ground). Timothy and I walked around the neighborhood to a little trail that April pointed us towards and we enjoyed another spectacular Utah sunset with their dog Ray. Seeing the gold and purple and pink and blue, I returned to that feeling I had found the day before, and I felt at peace, even a little at home.

In other Spokes news, Ody in addition to a dislocated jaw suffered a chipped tooth today, but thankfully other than a new gap toothed grin, they are (relatively) whole and well (thank you Cameron for checking Ody out!).

sunset!

See you soon,

Sophia

Day 22: Last Day of Rest!

I’m in a good mood today. It’s my fourth day in a row without biking (we had a 6-mile ride yesterday, but I rode in the car 😎). These last days have provided us with a much needed respite – time to rest our muscles, ice our knees, apply topical creams, nap, call friends, and lie on the ground. There are still things to do, but for the first time in a while, there’s time to just sit and relax. I feel truly relaxed for the first time since the start of the trip.

After a quick breakfast, we arrived at the Christa McAuliffe Space Center, ready to teach. Aja, Joel, and Sophia’s workshops came first. While those three taught, Parth ran Ody (the team’s Honda Odyssey) to the shop to get its muffler fixed. For the last few days, Ody has been growling like a Harley Davidson when it accelerates, so a small tune-up was in order.

While the others taught, Katherine and I hung out in the break room, a converted conference room, and worked on our lessons. I brushed up on some slides from old computer science classes, which got me amped up and reminded me why I’m teaching this topic in the first place.

In Ely, we taught up to forty students at a time ranging in age from 5 to 13. Today, our classes were smaller ranging from 1-10 students, ages 9-13. This made teaching much easier. I had six students in my workshop, and I really appreciated having the time to answer every question and to give each student personal attention. It’s exciting going back and forth with a student over a challenging topic and watching them chip away at it slowly, question by question, until it finally clicks.

While I was teaching, Sophia, like the hero she is, picked up In-n-Out for Parth, Joel, and me. After my workshop I helped Vincent clean up and then enjoyed a delicious meal of animal fries and grilled cheese in the Space Center parking lot.

This evening wasn’t very eventful. Katherine took advantage of our host’s kitchen to cook a fancy meal, Parth napped, Sophia did some writing, and I spent about an hour jumping on our hosts’ trampoline.

Before wrapping up, I’ve included another short and sweet interview segment:

What was the highlight of the last four days?

Parth: Starting The Three Body Problem. It’s been a really good book so far. And teaching!

Joel: Hanging out in the treehouse, eating meals outside, lounging around.

Sophia: Reading in the treehouse alone in the morning.

Aja: Reuniting in the car after we almost died in the river. (Me: The parents are going to read this.) After we all had so much fun in the river! And Gemma [our hosts’ nineteen year-old cat].

Katherine: Making food. Yummy. (Katherine: Make sure to include “yummy.”)

Vincent: Seeing everyone at the end of the river adventure. And the meal after was very good.

What was the low point of the last four days?

Parth: I am tempted to say that my low point was losing my phone. But I think that my low point happened today. A lot of my friends are not going through great times.

Joel: The morning before we moved over here I was really enjoying staying at [our Lindon, UT hosts’ house]. It was like getting everything we don’t get on this trip for three days.

Sophia: Timothy keeping me up asking me weird questions. [It’s 10:12pm.] Also, leaving the Asian Mart. [Lindon, Utah has one pan-Asian grocery store called Asian Market Utah.] (Katherine: Can you attribute that to me too?)

Aja: Dropping Joel’s [2-liter] soda bottle on my toe.

Katherine: Sitting around waiting to move six miles to [our host's house in Pleasant Grove].

Vincent: Walking along the railroad tracks looking for Katherine and Sophia without finding them.

That’s all for tonight! Tomorrow we’re riding 90 miles to Deschesnes (?? I think I spelled it right) so we need to get up bright and early.

Till next time,

Timothy

day 20 + 21: Stranded

Dear diary,

[begin entry]

Yesterday, we tried floatin’ down a Utah river in $5 Walmart tubes. However, much to our dismay, the water was cold, swift, roaring, and way too rocky. We start’d the day with 7 tubes and left with (maybe) 3 of them. We got stranded miles apart, whilst split into 4 groups at various points along the banks. We lost 1 shoe, 1 phone, and 2 socks anyways, while still managing to bruise our butts, backs, and pride.

We must’ve spent at least 3 hours looking for each other (without phones, drinking water, or food), until finally by some miracle ——- gracious help by some strangers (who also got stranded), crazed shouting across the banks, and a lot of quick thinkin’ —— we managed to find each other.

Felt weird being split into 4 different groups at random places along the river. And scary ‘cause we were racing the sun to find everyone before it got dark. Think ‘Survivor,’ but no prize money at the end except some crazy story that no one else will believe. Maybe “city”-folk like us weren’t so cut out for the rapids of Utah; or maybe we just made too many rookie mistakes. Good thing we’re all ok (minus the phone) and somewhat in good spirits still…

I can’t do it justice, since we all had a different experience. Hopefully we get around to writin’ a group story at some point. But I can’t shake the feeling that we’re either doing something profoundly wrong or right on this trip (or maybe both). Helluva “rest” day…

[end entry]

Sincerely,

Vince “city-boy” X

Lessons learned:

• Try to understand the water conditions before trying to float down a river so your toes don’t freeze. Don’t go cheap on the floaty tubes (maybe those tube rental companies aren’t total scams after all… at least you won’t bang your butt on a rock)

• Bring some extra shoes in case you lose yours. Apparently they don’t work so well as paddles. Maybe carry some some clips and bags with zippers too.

• Get good at memorizin’ numbers in case you get stranded along a river. But maybe it doesn’t help so much if no one brings theirs anyways. (and plus, 2-push authentication might foil your plans)

• Try to laugh a little bit when things go wrong. Or maybe cry a bit too because of how poorly it went? Or maybe a bit of both…? :—)

day 19: suburbia

in baker, nevada, joel brought up a conversation about the difference between happiness and contentment. 

in my mind, happiness is a teammate’s laugh or a perfect lavender iced coffee or a song that speaks to your soul blasting maybe-too-loud through headphones. a beautiful utah sun slipping behind mountaintops, instantaneous.

contentment may contain all of these moments. at some point the emotional highs and lows blend together into a state of peace - one where spilling a bit of iced coffee won’t ruin your day because you know better things are coming. i, personally, would prefer this type of stability to the volatility of instantaneous (un)happiness.

today we are, for the first time since…sacramento? in proper proximity to urban life, just north of the well-known college town of provo, utah in a suburb called lindon. suburbia, where matching white houses with gray roofs line gentle roads in a levittown-reminiscent fashion. 

there’s something very melancholy about feeling happy amidst discontent. 

today i was happy a lot of the time. honestly, today was the first time this trip that i’ve felt fully like a person. late nights, early mornings, sleeping bags, and 100-mile days do a number to your body and your psyche. we have two full rest days in lindon - our team slept in, i made oatmeal and lavender iced coffee and read outside in the shady sun and pet gemma, our wonderful hosts’ 19-year-old cat. I put on an outfit without a butt pad! I marveled at our hosts’ beautiful view and backyard treehouse. I went to target and trader joe’s with katherine and vincent, loaded up on delicious food, played (and won!) an intense game of air hockey with joel and practiced (laughable) head standing with katherine in the evening. ate pasta salad and ice cream outside and learned about our host’s profession as an organ player, called a few loved ones living far away from utah. watched timothy cook scallion pancakes in our basement kitchen (and maybe set off the smoke detector) and joel prep bread dough for tomorrow’s baking ventures. 

so much happiness on this team. i’m truly so lucky.

but there’s a looming sense of anxiety when you go to the store and see no one who looks like you. eyes flitter and microaggressions roll easily off of tongues. we are currently in a state where university “honor codes” ban people like me from loving who they love. we have visited, and will continue to visit, places where the line between patriotism and american exceptionalism becomes thin. where reproductive healthcare is being actively dismantled as i write this post. where people are happy about these things.

I am constantly towing the line between immense gratitude - for this journey, for all of our incredibly generous hosts, for my teammates - and a deep sense of anger/ fear/ at times impact-lessness. perspectives and emotions come in waves.

I find it difficult to claim contentment in this country, in this moment. but on we go, finding safety, joy, happiness where we can - holding each other tight where we cannot.

aja

day 18: ---

i wanted to take a moment away from the usual format of spokes blogs—recapping the day—to talk about the experience of this trip from the perspective of mental health. as much as i’ve enjoyed seeing the country, meeting new people, getting closer to my six teammates, biking, teaching, and all the other beautiful parts of spokes, parts of this trip have been really challenging.

before i started, i thought the challenges would be largely physical: i hadn’t biked more than 15 miles before starting, and i was really scared of the 100+ mile days on our agenda. those days have been hard, but the physical strain pales in comparison to the stress and anxiety i’ve felt some days of this trip.

here’s my best attempt to convey what that’s been like (for me—not necessarily others on the team).

sleeping in a different place every night has changed my sense of self. at Stanford (and every time before that), i’ve been fortunate to always have a space that i can fill with my belongings. my dorm room is full of pictures of friends, stuffed unicorns that people bought me as gifts, and paintings that people made for me. those things are small, but important for keeping myself grounded and reminding me of my communities and loved ones.

during this trip, my entire life has been reduced to a few bags that i unpack every night, repack every morning, and then shove into our overstuffed car (a.k.a. “Ody”; pronounced oh-dee). Ody is a dangerous creature with a habit for swallowing items that are carelessly placed; many of my belongings have vanished into its nooks and crannies. it’s become really hard to keep personal objects—they’re either too hard to bring with me or i’m worried they’ll get damaged in the car.

beyond belongings, moving around is challenging for safety. when i’m stationary, i learn about the norms and values of the place i’m living, and existing there often becomes easier. on this trip, we’ve met so many different people with vastly different worldviews—folks who think the catholic church is evil, people who think the 2020 election was stolen, and many who have been openly racist and transphobic. my radar is constantly active, trying to get a quick read on everyone we meet, and i’m constantly worried that the members of this team (five of whom are POC; three of whom are women) will have to endure microaggressions (or worse). even when we don’t, it’s exhausting being constantly attuned.

somehow, i’m always busy. when i read blog posts from previous years i’m shocked at how much time those folks had. we wake up early in the morning and do chores continuously until we roll out. then, once we arrive, we prepare dinner and go to bed. even rest days are occupied with trips to bike shops or to get supplies for teaching. i don’t think i’ve ever been this busy with a single activity in my life.

the all-encompassing nature of spokes can make it hard to take breaks. i’m so conditioned to working on spokes, it sometimes guilty to check out or spend time with myself. it’s also hard to remember parts of my identity outside of spokes—i haven’t written a line of computer code, made a piece of art, or been on a leisurely walk since starting the trip—all things that i regularly do at Stanford. and, as i’m writing this, i have unread texts from 15 different people and unread emails from 6 different people (sorry!).

staying in high schools brings back memories. we’ve stayed at two high schools now, and each of those experiences has been surreal for me. i’m convinced every high school has the same smell (a sort of pleasant… funk), the same poorly-rhyming fight songs, the same brand of calculators, the same waxy floors, etc. etc.

when we stay in high schools, i often wander the halls, visiting places i frequented at my own high school: the debate room, the auditorium, the chemistry classroom. last night after midnight, i sat on a chair in the middle of the stage in an empty auditorium, recording voice notes to friends—i certainly have a flair for the theatrical.

the thing is, my memories of high school are not always pleasant. for every time i remember a friend that introduced me to a new book as i walk past the library, i also remember the fear and exhaustion of pushing myself too hard to finish an assignment as i walk by the history classroom.

the architecture of high school is so unique in the way it moves, organizes, and polices its students. stepping into it as a guest, free to move without fearing being flagged for not having a hall pass, has made me reflective on how that architecture shaped my own high school experience and, by extension, personality.

my emotions are cyclically linked with my teammates, which can make for high highs and low lows. we spend so much time around each other that we’ve come to know each other really well (in some ways). i can tell when others aren’t doing well and if they aren’t, it sucks!

to me, part of this seems a little like enmeshment, but it’s also practical: it is much harder to have a good time with the team if everyone is going through it; and, it’s hard to feel sad when everyone is doing really well.

at times, this feels cyclical: one person is having a bad time, then others start having a bad time, until eventually, nobody is feeling great. that’s a more rare experience, but it’s happened from time-to-time.

---

at the end of this, i’m really tempted to write something like: “but, it’s all ok because i have my team and we love and care for each other.”

that’s true, of course. but i also think it’s a bit minimizing. i think it’d give in to my temptation to balance the negatives with something positive.

holding both—the joy and anxiety that i get from this activity—is the complexity of the spokes experience.

—parth

DAY 16: day 1, attempt 2 + DAY 17: rest and recuperation

Katherine here! Feeling in decent spirits after an eventful last couple days. Yesterday was a particularly momentous occasion: it was my first day back on the bike after my knee injury. 

Changing Parth’s (second) flat.

As you might know, I’ve spent the past couple weeks off the bike. Over that period of time, I’ve secretly nurtured a growing feeling of fear and apprehension. From the at-times lonely vantage point of the minivan, I watched my teammates get more and more comfortable on their bikes, quickly leveling up past their beginner stage while I stayed stunted, mentally and physically at Day 1. I worried that I wouldn’t be able to keep up once I started biking again, and worried even more that I would hold the team back. I didn’t know if my knee would hold up. I envisioned myself fumbling with my cleats, huffing and puffing on inclines that my teammates handled with ease, and maybe even had a nightmare or two about losing control of my bike, careening into the highway, and getting run over by a truck. Oops. 

And at first, it seemed like that prophecy would come true. I started my first leg, part of the way from Ely to Baker, on a steep downhill. Big mistake. Immediately, my bike picked up speed and started shooting down the Nevada mountainside at speeds I’d never reached before. I could barely keep my bike from wobbling violently in the powerful crosswinds, and my hands were trembling from gripping my overly loose brakes. More than mildly terrified, I stopped on the side of the road and Sophia, who’d been keeping an eye on me (<3), stopped to help me tighten my brakes. 

Rest stop Aja is never without her yoga mat.

When we set off again, I had a newfound determination to make it to the next rest stop. And a few minutes later, it clicked. I let my bike accelerate and loosened up my legs. I fixed my gaze on the road ahead of me instead of the ground whizzing past right below my tires. I leaned forward and stabilized my body against the wind. I made it down the mountain, and then some, feeling the smile on my face as I took in the sprawling views: fields of wind turbines and orange mountains in the distance. Pumped full of adrenaline, I sprinted the last bit once I saw Ody (and Joel and Vincent) waiting for us at the rest stop. Sophia and Aja later told me how impressed they were with how I handled the descent (apparently we reached nearly 40 mph!) and Timothy commented on how well I kept up with the group. And while I do think they were just being super nice trying to hype me up, I also really appreciate their kind words, and I’m proud of how I handled the ride, all things considered. 

Becky’s homemade ice cream, the Betty Crocker way!

I decided to rest the last leg into Baker, and then the whole day today. While my knee is doing okay, I definitely need to ease into strenuous activity again, and I’ve learned a lot about listening to my body over the past couple weeks, so I’ll take it easy. I enjoyed relaxing and napping in the Parth car today, and also wonderful soul-healing dinners prepared by Vincent and Joel yesterday in Baker and by our hosts Becky and Dick today in Delta, Utah (seriously, they made us homemade ice cream!!).

Excited to be back on the bike again tomorrow. Good night! 

Katherine

Day 15: Teaching!

Day 15: Teaching!

We woke up this morning to a luxurious 7am alarm. Today was our first day of teaching! Most of us grabbed a few extra minutes of sleep after the alarm; bed time was delayed last night by long bouts of laughter that only comes from mutual exhaustion and being around each other so continuously. 

I felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness this morning. Teaching is the central goal of Spokes, and I couldn’t wait to see how the kids would react to our lessons. On the other hand, I felt a bit underprepared. I’ve never taught in this fashion before.

Nonetheless, we rolled up to the White Pine Library, some in Ody, some on bike. We were greeted by Lori, the person who coordinated the workshops with us. We immediately set to work preparing the room. Kids ranging in age from five to 13 began filling up the room–before we knew it, over 30 kids were packed into the room! 

Katherine went first, with her lesson on colors and color theory. Though the kids were still waking up, they quickly warmed up to the coloring. Parth’s lesson followed, focusing on data science. After working through what data means and how it can represent real-world stories, the students investigated their own narrative on data, some indoors and some outdoors.

Before I knew it, it was my turn to teach. In the minutes leading up to the start of my lesson, my nervousness and excitement crescendoed in volume. After I set up, Parth graciously introduced me to the group as “teacher Joel” and I began. My lesson is titled “Intro to Rocket Science.” However, due to the age range, I modified my lesson to be more about engineering iteration than about the actual fundamentals of rocket science.

After talking briefly about rockets, we went outside to launch a simple 2-liter bottle using water and compressed air. Despite my best efforts, the bottle got stuck in a nearby tree! I asked the kids how they think they could improve the design. I was blown away by the intuition the students had about improving the design. One kid even suggested making the rocket heavier to make it more stable, which is actually a counterintuitive fundamental of rocket design. 

After we brainstormed improvements, I split the kids into groups, and creative chaos ensued. Some glued leaves to their rockets, some built parachutes. After building, we all went outside, and tested the rocket designs. Each team got to pull the cord on their launch (though one trigger happy student pulled the cord early and got me a bit drenched as I filled the rocket). The excitement was contagious (and no other rockets got stuck in the tree). After a very short hour, we took a break for lunch, with the kids eating their boxed lunches, and us eating pizza generously provided by the library.

After the lunch break, I got the unique opportunity of watching Vincent stuff his face with a banana to demonstrate mental schema. This earned him the nickname “monkey man” from the students. Sophia and Aja split up the kids and taught concurrent lessons. Sophia taught about stories, and Aja taught about urban planning, using a detailed, hand-drawn map of Ely. Timothy finished out the day teaching about how computers transmit information.

Monkey man Vincent eats a banana

The students’ redesign of Ely (photo creds: Aja)

During part of this time, Parth and I played a chess game in the library. We both reminisced about how we got into chess, and confessed to each other that we were a bit rusty. The game was a fun back-and-forth, with no clear winner until the last few moves. I somehow squeaked out a win, though I do believe the game would’ve gone differently without a time constraint.

We learned lots from this first set of lessons. We learned the value of splitting up the students into smaller groups. We learned methods of keeping the kids attention. We teach again in a week, and I’m excited for the adventure that will bring. Tomorrow, we return to biking after a much needed couple days of rest. However, what we are biking towards feels more palpable to me. We’ve acclimated to the cycling part of Spokes; I am very excited to further explore the teaching part of Spokes.

High stoke teaching (photo creds: Aja)

Onwards,

Joel