Day 41: True Crime and Yum Yum Sauce

So our time in Kansas has done the unforgivable: revive my interest in true crime. Helen and I have recently taken to using true crime podcasts to pass the time while on the bike as we ride through ever flat Kansas. Re-exposing myself to this media inspired me to reflect on any peccadilloes I have witnessed on the trip. Ours, however, are not illegal in the slightest, but consist of acts that are, as the kids like to say these days, outtapocket. Inspired by the Sherlock Stories I have been reading on this trip, I have compiled a list of offenses both perpetrated and experienced by our team below:

1) The Case of the Bad Yum Yum Sauce

This utterly heinous crime was enacted on Alex by the universe. For what reason, we’ll never know. Alex had bought the Yum Yum sauce in our last grocery run and was dying to try it, ever curious as to what made it so “yum yum.” However, in a criminal turn of events, the yum yum sauce spoiled before he got to try it, leaving a poor taste in our mouth before ever having left the bottle. Truly a tragic ending to the case.

2) The Case of the Missing Keys

It started after the bikers left. This nagging sensation that we were forgetting something. It didn’t take long for those of us on car crew that day to realize, however, that none of us had the keys. No biggie, we thought, it must just be buried underneath some sheets or behind a backpack or something. We rummaged around the room, but to no avail. No problem, we thought, it must be out by the car, someone may have mistakenly set it on the ground while unracking the bikes. We scoured the area surrounding the car, but no such luck. Not an issue, we thought, although with more uneasiness than before, it must still be with the one of the bikers. We called each biker one by one, but no one answered.

Until one did, and to our dismay, Leo relayed that none of them had it, and that his iphone showed the keys location as inside the car. The only problem with that, the car was locked. One failed attempt at using Triple A and 4 hours later, we were able to receive car assistance and were able to retrieve our keys. The perpetrator that left the keys in the car shall remain unnamed, as this is perhaps the most grievous of transgressions in recent days.

3) Death by Alarm

I always feel like death in the morning, but an unnecessary assault on my eardrums I experienced one morning just added insult to injury. Alex had set an alarm for that morning which unfortunately had been placed right next to my head the night before. Disturbing my sleep is an egregious act, so of course this would make this list.

4) The Mystery of the Bread Orientation

I can’t believe I hadn’t even noticed. But can you blame me? Usually when I make a sandwich I’m not really thinking too hard about whether or not the sandwich I’m eating is clean. It should be? I mean the bread and everything else in it is packaged, it should be clean! Little did I know that the bread had been repackaged by a certain teammate of mine a few days before. After interrogating Helen, she spilled the beans on the culprit, Victoria, who would later confess to the crime of dropping the bread on the floor and quickly stuffing it back into the bag, leaving it in an odd orientation Technically she was within the 5 second rule, so all was forgiven, though now I am more wary when making my sandwiches.

Helen moments before spilling the beans to me…

5) Sleeping Beauty Meets G-Ma

Like I mentioned before, Helen and I share an interest in true crime, so when we had some free time one day, we elected to spend it watching a netflix docuseries on it. The episode we watched centered on the unsettling story of an elderly lady (G-Ma as we called her) turned felon. The grisly details of the case were enough to send chills down anyone’s spine, and as I laid there watching in fear I was just grateful that I wasn’t watching alone. Until I realized… I was . Helen had decided to take an unsanctioned nap without my knowledge, leaving me to witness the macabre displays on screen all by my lonesome. An act of betrayal I shan’t forget soon.

And that, ladies and gentlemen is a small list of the most egregious transgressions enacted by and on the Spokes team this year.

~ The most qualified detective you’ve ever met,

Jordan

Day 40: Triple Digit Temp

Today I was on car crew. Between pit spots, we spent our morning exploring the small towns off US highway 50. One town had a historic main street full of beautifully crafted antique houses. Another was full of amateur radio antennas. Many buildings were clearly abandoned and slowly being reclaimed by growth.

Downtown Peabody, KS.

By 10:30 in the morning, the weather had reached a humid 92 degrees. Shortly afterwards our biking crew called it a day. Despite everyone wanting to continue biking, it simply wasn’t safe to do so in the heat. To account for this new weather paradigm, we’ve resolved as a group to try and start biking at sunrise – the coolest moment of the day.

We spent the remainder of our day seeking shelter from the heat and catching up on non-biking activities.

Day 39: Newton Learning Festival

Today we led a special event at the Newton Public Library in Newton, Kansas where we led six 1-hour workshops in a sequence from 9am-4pm with a break for lunch. Sharon, one of the library employees, helped to organize the event and was crucial throughout the day. She is also a Stanford Mom!

I taught my workshop on rocketry first, since mine involves going outside and the high today is over 100 degrees. I gave a presentation on Newton’s third law and the principles of rocketry. We went over propulsion, stability, and recovery of rockets. Then, the students broke out into pairs to build bottle rockets with nose-cones and fins out of construction paper. Each student had different ideas about the best shape, thickness, and location of the different parts of the rocket. The students were very enthusiastic to share what they know about rockets, and space.

After the rockets were all assembled, and filled with water, we went outside to launch them. All the rockets were very successful, though one did land on the roof of the library — the students considered that launch to be the most successful. I enjoy seeing all of the enthusiasm and excitement of the students to learn, explore, and have fun with new concepts and activities.

I am very glad we are able to do an all-day learning festival like this since it allows all of the students to attend all of the workshops without having to pick and choose between them. All of the workshops went well, and both the teachers and the students were treated to a great catered lunch by the library. That being said, six hours of teaching made us feel pretty similar to a full day of biking. Teaching is very rewarding, but it takes a lot of energy to do well!

On a mostly unrelated note, we are staying in a beautiful 19th century house in Newton that is a National Registered Historical Site. The house was built in 1885 for a local banker and is beautifully preserved with much of the original woodwork intact. Our stay so far in Newton has been very enjoyable.
-Leo

Day 38: Different Modes of Being

From spending hours on a bike, to getting used to driving a van many feet taller and longer than your average car, to pitching a tent and huddling in sleeping bags, much of what initially felt novel now feels very routine on this trip. Now that the Kansas roads have flattened and the scenery alternates between farmland and an occasional 2-block long town, my primary stimulation each day comes from swatting at flies that bite (surprisingly painfully hard) and waving at friendly truckers who honk “hello” as they drive past with their livestock. In other words, I fear boredom is fast approaching — this would be far from ideal, especially as part of why I joined Spokes in the first place was to ward off my routine summer boredom.

The view for most of the day

Today, I decided to take the approach of constructing different characters for myself to embody throughout the day to keep myself entertained. From these constructions, I was able to transcend “biking college kid” and explore instead different modes of being.

1) Megatron

Every day, we need to load up all our luggage into and out of the car (this is one of the many unexpected workouts Spokes involves). Today morning, I wore two backpacks on my torso to softly smash into walls, I swung duffel bags in my outstretched arms, and I menacingly looked at Jordan and made “whirrrrrr” sounds with my mouth and got called a “megatron.” The megatron was born, and she will surely return every morning and evening.

Megatron activation!

2) Bartender

Anyone who knows me well enough knows that I adore T Pain a little too much and that I think bartending is the coolest part time job of all time. Therefore, I decided to foster my skill and passion for this art by seizing the opportunity to pour water into the ice in the cooler today. Leo taught me to hold the water gallon directly upright and then swirl it to make the water come out as fast as possible, so I have that skill too, now.

Hire me!

3) Aspiring Iron Man

I’m going to be honest, I am always fighting with this bike rack hitched behind our van. Every day, trying to fit bikes (of different heights) into this thing is the most exhausting jigsaw puzzle of all time, especially with the sun beating down and the lock getting jammed. I will either injure a finger, calf, my emotions, or all of the above, trying to work with this thing. I’m not quite there yet, but once I’m able to use this thing successfully, that would mean I reached the physical and mental fortitude of Iron Man.

My greatest opponent :(

4) Paparazzi

Jordan has declared war. And by that, I mean she has created many cursed stickers of me by capturing candid moments on camera where I am not the most… composed. I am morally obligated to return the favor. As being a paparazzi is a skill I’m still developing, I tried to capture a candid shot today. Unfortunately, she is far more composed than I am in her daily life so she just looks cool.

Jordan created this sticker so I tried to return the favor….

…. however she unfortunately does not have the same ability to look awkward when caught off guard.

5) House Pet

Since we’ve arrived at our host’s home today, I’ve transformed my hand into a pillow, shared a water cup, and made intense and meaningful eye contact with some new friends (photos below for clarification). In other words, I’ve really integrated into this wonderful community. I often sincerely wish that I could live full time as a well-cared for house pet.

My hand is now a pillow

My water cup sharing partner

This is the eye contact of someone who truly understands me

Good night,

Helen

Day 37: love and lore

Yesterday, I awoke with some neck pain. It was unfortunate (and humorous!). This was the one night I slept with the hotel pillow. Usually, I stuff my New Yorker (which you can get for $6!!!) tote bag with miscellaneous clothes to have the tan fabric balloon into a voluminous shape. It’s not the most comfortable, but it has—and will==do. (Reminder: if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Let’s not hustle backwards!!!). The pain has been searing and encompassing, like an invisible brace of immobility. All the tendons and muscles and other tissue (I’m sure Jordan could give the proper names) constrict and contract and produce stiff glances. I’ve been told this will last a week, so I was in the car today. 

What to index? What to do?

I’ve been in one static position for most of the day. One bag of flaming hot Cheeto flavored popcorn is now a crumpled plastic heap in our trash (my stomach did not like the deadly dyes). I’ve snacked, and I’ve stared, and I’ve knocked on a door of a stranger to ask to use the restroom. Most of all though, I’ve been reading and watching.

In light of some lore (which all have some relation to love), I shall share the books and media I’ve sprinkled into the trip (many are 10% finished—perhaps in total, they can combine to be one finished book):

Past Lives (A24 Film): I cried while watching this today, though I don’t know how much that reveals because I can cry a lot, especially when watching what seems to be real. Decisions, relationships, and all the possibilities of life are difficult to comment on, as it’s hard to observe anything we are in the midst of, to have foresight in the ongoing, especially at this age. But two things stuck, and I wrote down the dialogue. For context, the movie is about Nora, a woman who immigrated from Korea at age 12, and Hae Sung, her childhood sweetheart from her hometown, and her current husband Arthur. Hae Sung and Nora have bouts of on and off contact, despite obvious chemistry, and the movie’s climax is when Hae Sung visits Nora in New York for a “vacation.” Disguised as a love triangle (though it’s not), Past Lives is really about the ways life could have “happened” to us and the moments we confront that vastness. 

Dialogue #1 that I like: 

Arthur: I mean, think about it. Our story is just so boring. We met at an artist residency, slept together because we both happened to be single, realized we both live in NY so we move in together to save money on rent, get married so you can get a green card—

Nora: Sounds so romantic.

Arthur: That’s what I’m saying. I’m the guy you leave in the story when your ex-lover is going to take you away…What if you met another artist at residency? What if there was another writer from NY who read all the same books you had and watched all the same movies and could give you useful notes on your plays and listen to you complain about your rehearsals? 

Nora: That’s not how life works.

Arthur: Yeah, but wouldn’t you be laying here with him? 

Nora: This is my life and I’m living it with you.

Nora is curt, while Arthur is admittedly (and understandably) anxious, maybe jealous, and upset over Hae Sung’s visit. Nora later adds that Arthur is forgetting the part where she loves him. Some of the time, I can be like Arthur, wondering and wandering in uncertainties and false realities, and then for the rest of these moments, I’m Nora. More decisive and definitive, I guess. I don’t know—I don’t think this scene is meant for us to unravel all the reasons why we are here in this exact moment today. I think it’s about frame control. How wonderful it is that it was Arthur at that residency and that they did read the same books and like the same movies and that they both envisioned a life full of writing and partnership. The default is easy to dismiss because it’s here, it’s happening. But that doesn’t make it any less are and precious. 

Dialogue #2 that I like:

Hae Young: But the truth I learned here is, you had to leave because you’re you. And the reason I liked you is because you are you. And who you are is someone who leaves.

Nora: I think there was something in our past lives. Otherwise, why would we be here together now? But in this life, we don’t have the In-Yun to be that kind of person to each other. Because now, finally, we’re in the same city for the first time in twenty years…

Hae Young: We’re sitting here with your husband. In this life, you and Arthur are that kind of In-Yun to each other. You two have the 8,000 layers of In-Yun to each other. To Arthur, you’re someone who stays.

In-Yun is a Korean word for means fate that connects people. The layers of serendipity that allow two people to be in each other’s lives, no matter how brief. This scene is quite piercing because we can hold love for people but relinquish them in our lives, and this truth feels unnatural and unsettling. Shouldn’t love be enough to bind two people, like an invisible thread that wounds us up and together? But it’s not, and circumstance must support. That’s scary to reckon with and accept, but perhaps it makes it all the easier to internalize that everything happens for a reason because there’s a reason that some things did not work out while other things did.

Uncle Tom’s Cabin (book): This is a canonical piece, deemed one of the most influential bodies of work in the 19th century. And I can see why. Each page invokes a spiritual calling, and the book is gripping as it is grueling. This was written for a white audience, beckoning the middle class to act and revolt against slavery. Thus, Stowe’s framing—the use of “you” and “reader”—construct an invisible barrier between the story—which is all about slavery—and the audience—who is construed as above and beyond these happenings. This is subtle, but it is clear, and the appeals to God and values convince us that slavery is a moral sin, and that is worth no economic price. 

The Gospel of J. Edward Hoover (book): Written by one of my professors in spring quarter, this book explores how religion was embedded into the national security state. Recently, I’ve been curious about how religion and its deep underpinnings in the US have been amiss to me. Maybe it’s one of those things that are so obvious—but so private—that it obscures truth, or at least a complete one. Maybe religion is comparable to water in David Foster Wallace’s speech. Religion is the thing that’s around us, to such an extent that we can’t even recognize what exactly it is. Nonetheless, this book is great. I’m really into religious studies, and I’m excited to learn more about the domain. 

Political Order and Decay (book): A polisci classic, this book follows how our democracy has become what it is in the last 200 years. Dense but comprehensive, Fukuyama creates an overarching narrative of how democracy can be sustained. I like this book a lot. It feels like getting down the fundamentals of how this world that I know came to be, and I imagine it was a herculean undertaking to write this and synthesize many, many piece-meal theories.

I’m in the car for the next day, too. So off to the races to read,

Victoria

Day 36: Cartography

Last night, the skies opened up. It was thunderstorming buckets in Garden City, Kansas, as if some overzealous gardener up there was trying to reverse—overnight—the toll years of neglect had exacted on their parched patch of suburban lawn. Garden City stinks when it rains; the water chases all the worst odors out into the open.

Our belongings safely secured in the hotel room we booked after a group of Coloradans warned us the weather forecast predicted hail the size of baseballs, Helen and I realized that the van headlights were still on. We mad-dashed our way through the parking lot, searching for our lost hour (Central Time…) and our sanity, soaked to the bone. There are two kinds of people: Helen, who quickly realizes the futility of any attempt to stay dry and slows to a resigned walk in the downpour; and Anna, who keeps careening toward the hotel awning, haphazardly dodging puddles and screeching as she goes.

Consider this an obvious case of foreshadowing.

Imagine something 10x worse—this photo doesn’t do the freshly bedraggled and grimy state justice

In the morning, during the first leg, bikers and car alike encounter mud, biting flies, and newborn lakes that block all movement forward. We finally find the highway three hours later, bedraggled and grimy.

In the afternoon, Helen and I bike 30 miles of Kansas flat and hold our breaths through almost as many miles of Kansas stench. We pass a cattle feed yard, various co-op grain mills, bleating goats, and endless fields of corn. And while each catches and holds my attention, the moments don’t go anywhere—just bounce around inside my head like so many screensavers, taking up space until replacements are found. I know next to nothing about the history, economy, politics, or people of Kansas, and I’ve always been tragically unobservant of the landmarks that shape most people’s understandings of the paths and spaces that make up their lives. It’s why I have a poor sense of direction and why without a map—even in my hometown—I so often get lost.

Roadside sequence

After a stretch of red (not yellow) brick road, we arrive at our hosts’ home. Over dinner, the day unknots—becomes intelligible. I learn that meatpacking plants are major sources of income and employment in the area, though new cheese plants have opened and are starting to bring in significant truck traffic; that corn became the dominant crop only after irrigation became more widespread; that the grain mills produce cheap milo dust for cereal and construction binders across the nation. I learn that the town has a significant migrant population; that more than half of students in the district today do not identify as white; that this part of Kansas is majority politically conservative, and that politics sow not only discord and division, but also a deep sense of isolation for some people who were born and raised here, who raised their own children here.

Tonight, getting ready for bed, I map the conversation back onto the moments bouncing around inside my head. There’s a cohesion that wasn’t there before: a sense of place.

Anna

P.S. Rest break sequence: Alex practicing for the circus

Day 34: Drafting an Attempted Century

A few of us made our first attempt to bike 100 miles today. The terrain is now basically all flat, which made our venture a little more realistic (I had previously considered trying to ride a century when we were crossing the Rockies. The massive altitude gains got the better of me). With flat routes, we no longer have to gruel up long uphill segments. We now instead get to deal with massive headwinds.

Or perhaps I should say, I got to deal with massive headwinds. It seemed that my fellow bikers for the day were riding along with ease. While I would be furiously peddling through pounding gusts, I could hear the vzzzzzzzz of my teammates’ bikes behind me – the sound made by a gear-train when coasting. Initially, I figured either I was having an off-day or perhaps everyone else was feeling unusually sharp. Either way, we were on-track to completing our century.

Upon further inspection, however, I eventually realized the cause of our differential effort was aerodynamic in nature. Unknowingly, we had all bunched up together in a long chain. Each biker was only about half-a-foot away from the next biker. This is a technique known as drafting. By keeping so close, the brunt of the air-drag will be experienced by the lead rider (me, in this case) while everyone gets up to a 30% reduction in energy expenditure. In other words, one cyclist can help save everyone else’s energy by spearheading headwinds.

Drafting from the 2005 Tour de France

Although this was our first time drafting against wind, I don’t think it’s our first time drafting as a group. Throughout the whole trip, we’ve practiced plenty of psychological drafting – a phenomenon where one person’s ventures embolden others to follow suit. By striving for greater achievements, one inspires and makes way for others to do the same. When I announced I wanted to ride a century, I was alone in my declaration. Within a few days, half of the group had signed on to the challenge.

As I mentioned in a previous blog post, biking demands mental strength. It requires one to believe in their capacity to ride further than they ever have before. To draft, one must also believe in others. We are putting our safety into one another’s’ hands. We are a completely connected graph, in more ways than one.

Ultimately, we did not complete our goal. A fierce late afternoon storm came down on us. Despite a subsequently heightened pace, overhead lightning drove us into shelter. Luckily, we’ll have plenty more opportunities to achieve our goal.

A friend discovered in the storm.

DAY 33: Unicycles and Haircuts

Bella watches Alex try the unicycle

Today we left Monument, CO (near Colorado Springs) to start our way east to Kansas. Last night we stayed with very kind host. She mentioned to our group that she had a unicycle and Alex immediately asked if he could try riding on it. I admired his willingness to immediately try a new and intimidating activity. He spent a long time trying just to balance on it while holding on to a fence, and despite losing his balance many times he persevered.

A grain silo with artwork on it in Limon, CO

The host asked us to take the unicycle with us so today Alex kept practicing. I was happy to just stand there and provide encouragement and document the progress. In just one day he has improved a lot and now I am considering trying the unicycle too.

The prices are vintage too.

We went into town from our campsite after we were intrigued by a sign for $9 haircuts. Nothing in the barber shop looked like it had changed in at least the last 20 years. Old Coca-Cola machines, political cartoons from the early 2000s, and a cosmetology license that expired in 2002 were presented by our barber, who said he started cutting hair in 1976.

He told many interesting stories about the town, which he grew up in, and all the people who he has barbered over the decades. He was very interested in our journey and took our photo to “prove he had met us.” Regardless of how our hair turned out the experience was unforgettable.

Unfortunately, the machine was out of 50¢ Pepsi.

- Leo