Dear Readers.
I have failed you.... somewhere in the middle of the country I lost the will to hunt for computers.... Really, there weren't any to find.
At this point, it would take me months to catch up, and tell you all of the secrets and stories of my long journey. So... I'm writing a book. This is the last time I will post on this page. Maybe, later on down the road, I will start up a new blog, with clips from the book, and general life-stuff.
I apologize if you were left halfway in the middle of my story, with no resolve. I can tell you that I arrived safely in Portland, ME on my bicycle on the 14th of October, 2009. The last mountain range I rode felt like a hill, after all the climbing on the west coast, and it got cold at night. So it ended sort of the way it began, cold nights (but no snow)... except that it didn't get much warmer during the day. I got an everlasting sinus infection from staying in a freakishly dirty house, and had to opt out of riding certain stretches of upstate NY.
The leaves were changing when I rode through Vermont and New Hampshire, and there were "leaf peepers" everywhere... filling up the hotels and flooding the restaurants. One night, in 22 degree weather, we searched two hours for a hotel, pin-balling our names around waiting lists and watching the cozy travelers come and go. We got cranky, and nearly gave up and drove away... but discovered a hikers hostel at the last minute. We slept in an un-insulated barn, with cold noses and warm bodies, joined by two brave through-hikers from the Appalachian Trail.
The ride into Portland was beautiful, the horseshoe bay giving me a view of the little city as I rode the home stretch. I wandered around looking for a "Welcome to Portland" sign for photography's sake, to no avail.... I settled for a photo of myself leaning against a Portland Bike Lane sign, pointing in two directions. It seemed apt enough, considering.
I don't know yet how this tour has effected me. I know that I have challenged myself, both mentally and physically, and that I will keep learning from the experience as time unfolds, and as I re-align myself in the world. For now, I am settled up in Connecticut, making jewelry and working up my courage to really tackle the book-writing full speed. It's coming along nicely, but difficult it it's way. I'm starting from the beginning... the very beginning, and I don't know how it's all going to come together. I'm still living, I'm still working, and the puzzle hasn't come entirely clear yet.
I think however, that I have shed some of my judgement and pretense. I have met so many people, and disagreed with so many people... but they were kind. I don't know what it takes to change minds that are closed against the harsher realities and extreme beatitudes, but I know that the ability to listen plays a large part.
I'm thinking back to Toledo, where I ended up playing folk songs on the fake grass between strip malls, somehow trying to express environmental concerns to people living in the middle of the American sleep/dream. I'm thinking about the way they printed name tags, and called the local news. I'm thinking of how I cringed at the representation of myself and my art that the news concocted. I'll be thinking about this for awhile, I imagine.
I made it. Coast to coast, on my bicycle. I'm not an athlete. I never have been. I rode through rain and through mountains. I rode past incredible views and industrial horrors. I left a city that composts on a grand scale, and passed through cities without recycling programs.
You can ride to work. You can rally for safer bike lanes in your city. You can carry a coffee mug and stop getting a new paper cup three times a day. It sounds redundant to this point, as if being conscious were a trend, and we've all already read the news.
Being conscious is a daily practice. It's meditative, and it will restore you to sanity. It's also our only option. Every day that you make conscious choices will bring you closer to peace of mind, and will transform the world and the people around you. This can happen anywhere. It can happen between two strip malls in Toledo, Ohio. It can happen in New York City. It's happening in Portland, Oregon more and more every day.... and I can't wait to go home.
Thanks for reading, and stay in touch. If you want to know what I'm doing as time passes, there are tons of ways to do so:
Facebook : Malcolm Rollick
Website: http://www.malcolmrollick.com
Myspace: http://www.myspace.com/malcolmrollick
and my jewelry!
http://www.etsy.com/mlklm
Wish me luck!
xo Malcolm
