Clodomira’s legs are whirring pistons. She’s up over 100 revolutions per minute on her bicycle. The countryside streaks by her and in these few seconds there is no revolutionary struggle, no ultimate leader, no great leap forward.
The fervor of the People dissipates and all is still. She is frozen in the moment, and the moment frozen all around her. The landscape a stilled blur of streaks. In this instant all of existence becomes the object of her consciousness.
Life in this infinitesimal moment is bearable — worth the battle toward transcendence.
A flash and the moment is gone.
The bicycle, a humble 1956 Rabasa, feeling greatly misused upon resuming at that diabolic speed rebels, and disengages its chain breaking into a dizzy wobble.
They jackknife.
Clodomira is thrown into the sugar cane detritus — the edge of the field heaped with the sharp husks of post-Marxist labor. Now in mid-air she pictures herself as the radiant spear point of the vanguard, but as she hits the ground a shard of cane husk pierces her abdomen.
Clodomira rises to a sitting position. Our Lady of Charity hovers in the distance in an alcove of roiling cumulonimbus. All manner of birds and land animals are swept into the funnel and disappear.
Clodomira seethes. Oh, to be swept into that vestal vortex. Then she feels her father’s leaden hand on her shoulder, his grip tightening and constricting the blood flow to her head. Then his other hand under her shirt and rubbing her belly.
She is earthbound.
What I’m Reading:
We all came from refugees Nobody simply just appeared, Nobody’s here without a struggle, And why should we live in fear Of the weather or the troubles? We all came here from somewhere.
I have surgically-reconstructed knee swelling galore…
I had a surfeit of Bike MISERY…
I was not enjoying myself…
Mostly, I was following a tour of the East Coast Greenway (ECG) that was not riding on the East Coast Greenway…
I was not enjoying the 8am to 4pm regularity of “working” within the structure of the tour — I knew this would be my greatest challenge going in to this group endeavor. And it proved to be my Achilles…
I knew that as an early riser — I’m usually up at 4:30 am and ready to go at 6 am (especially during these nearly 14-hour long spring/summer days) — I was very impatient and unhappy not being able to leave until 8-8:30 am when everyone was done with breakfast and washing the group gear.
I knew as someone who likes to ride late into the day (6-7 pm) — in order to take longer breaks during the day and do longer mileage if necessary — that having to be in camp by 4-5 pm, so all the shared gear might be put to use in cooking dinner, would make my day feel rushed and confining.
I knew these were my challenges going in, and I tried my hardest to live within these parameters… but I just don’t believe that bike touring should be (or at least feel like) a forced march.
Then, add the inability to reschedule a riding day due to schedule inflexibility that required us to bike during one of the worst recent nor’easters in the region — a few of us were in the verge of hypothermia, nearly hit by careless, half-blinded by rain, drivers on bike-unfriendly roads, and on difficult terrain — and you have the recipe for a mass exodus.
A near mutiny, according to one of the co-leaders of the tour.
Four riders out of the original twelve have left the tour for various reasons. Most, I would say, due to the inflexibility to reschedule around severe weather (this wasn’t a mere passing thunderstorm—it was a historic storm), deviation from the declared route, and difficulty of terrain.
That’s a high attrition rate (33%) for such a small group. No one thought it would be easy — but no one thought there would be so much thoughtlessness about it.
As you will note above, my right knee (left of frame) is chronically swollen, but I’ve dealt with that for years after reconstructive surgery. Not major though, but quite uncomfortable especially when first starting to pedal. One just swallows the pain, and copious amounts of ibuprofen daily.
What became more problematic was an ostensible stress fracture in my left foot. Over the course of a few nights I had shooting / stabbing pain, keeping me sleepless, radiating out of one of the metatarsals.
Then after the 82-mile day (the 9 bonus miles where my fault) into Providence I was certain something was wrong when I woke up to this:
I was just swallowing the pain (and the ibuprofen) but when I saw this I was taken aback. And then we proceeded to bike 56 and 33 successive mile days in deteriorating weather and terrain — away from the ECG — and I hit my limit.
Especially when I found out that we were deviating hundreds of miles away from the ECG.
My intention was to ride the ECG from Key West, Florida to the Canadian border at Calais, Maine. We were not going to do that.
I was bummed. I was pissed. I was dazed, pained and confused. In short I was out.
I was thrown for a loop and loopy!
So were Jim, Glenn, and Dave.
Best of luck to the 8 remaining riders and their trek to Washington, DC.
I will: reasses, recover, recoup, and finish the ECG this year!
I have yet to pedal the 1,328 miles from Georgetown, South Carolina to Putnam, Connecticut; as well as the 32 miles from Ellsworth, Maine to Searsport, Maine that I’ve never pedaled.
If I subtract the roughly 50 non-ECG miles I pedaled from Putnam to Stafford, Connecticut, I have covered 1,364 miles of the ECG this year. So I’m just a hair over half-way done.
I intend to cover those remaining 1,328 miles this riding season. I’d like to be one of the hundred or so that have finished the trail in a calendar year.
I will do it. I’m halfway done. I’m better off as a lone trekking cyclist.
1,364 Miles on East Coast Greenway February 28, 2025 — May 22, 2025
1,360 Remaining Miles To Pedal on the ECG Coming sometime this Summer / Fall of 2025
What I’m Reading:
In April and May of 2024, hundreds and hundreds of students gathered on campuses across the country to demand their schools divest from companies that manufacture weapons used by Israel in its decades-long apartheid regime over Palestine. In response, university officials and state governments turned their weapons—fitted in riot gear and armed with batons, mace, and assault rifles—against the students. This is but a microcosmic example of how an empire such the U.S. weaponizes its military and utilizes propaganda against its own citizens, just as it does to those abroad . . . The purpose of an empire’s propaganda is to affirm and then re-affirm the empire’s continued existence.
— Aaron Boehmer / “Defying Empire: On the Perennially Relevant Political Message of Wicked” / Lithub.com
Dream old pay phone ringing in hospital I pick up receiver voice says “The answer is awe.” Still don’t know what to do with it last September right before I was diagnosed and the dream is still irritating
— Alice Notley / “The Answer Is Awe”
No relief… This morning the floor of the shower appeared somehow both lower than it felt to be in standing on it, and higher than it appeared in my perception, as if I were trapped in two phases of myself standing in the same place, some crux of touching eras. I found myself thinking again about suicide.
— Blake Butler / Molly
Salam to Gaza The refugee camp lacks bread now But it is enriched with blood The camp lacks land and bread But now it ascends to the skies
— Hussein Barghouthi / “Salaam to Gaza”
Chomsky has been relentless in reminding society that power takes many forms and that the production of ignorance is not merely about the crisis of test scores or a natural state of affairs, but about how ignorance is often produced in the service of power. According to Chomsky, ignorance is a pedagogical formation that is used to stifle thinking and promotes a form of anti-politics, which undermines matters of judgment and thoughtfulness central to politics. At the same time, it is a crucial factor not just in producing consent but also in squelching dissent. For Chomsky, ignorance is a political weapon that benefits the powerful, not a general condition rooted in some inexplicable human condition.
— Henry A. Giroux / “Introduction” / Because We Say So
The world found nothing sacred in the abstract nakedness of being human.
— Hannah Arendt / The Origins of Totalitarianism
Artificial intelligence (AI) chatbots are more persuasive in online debates than people are — especially when they’re able to personalize their arguments using information about their opponent. Researchers pitted 900 people in the United States against either another person or OpenAI’s GPT-4 for 10-minute online debates on a sociopolitical issue. When neither the human nor AI had access to their opponent’s background information, GPT-4 was about as persuasive as a human. But if the basic demographic information from an initial survey was given to opponents before the debate, GPT-4 out-argued humans 64% of the time.
— Chris Simms / “AI uses people’s info to persuade them” / Nature
… life’s gone by … like I never lived…
— Anton Chekhov (Stephen Karam adaptation) / The Cherry Orchard
What I’m Listening To:
If you go down to Hammond You’ll never come back In my opinion you’re On the wrong track
Biked the entire day through a nor’easter — mid 40’s for a high, feeling like it was 30 degrees all day in the high winds and absolutely soaked through early on and all day.
Absolute MISERY.
Shades of hypothermia on a couple of occasions when stopped. And did over 3,000 feet of climbing. Too cold to eat. Too cold to drink. Just wanted it to stop.
Absolute MISERY.
Almost hit — within inches by a boat trailer on a shoulderless stretch of steep road. The shocking moment when I dove shoulder first into a rock outcropping continues to loop in my head. Insanely dangerous.
Absolute MISERY.
We’re not even biking on the East Coast Greenway. For some mysterious reason — probably to swing wide of New York City — we’re on the very steep rolling section of the Atlantic Coast Route that parallels the perfectly sane and well constructed rail trails of the East Coast Greenway in Connecticut. Those trails are a mere 20-30 miles to our south.
Piss-poor routing choice by the Adventure Cycling Association.
Why call this an East Coast Greenway tour if we depart the trail for this dangerous traverse made orders of magnitude worse by cycling in a nor’easter.
Absolute MISERY!
On the positive side… at least I wasn’t killed on the side of the road.
Start: Providence, RI End: Putnam, CT Miles: 57.17 / 1,381
From Providence, Rhode Island to Putnam, Connecticut. Too tired for more than a few pictures. We expect wall to wall rain from a Nor’easter all day and night tomorrow. Taking a shelter tonight to stay out of the rain.
What I’m Reading:
you’re home. eating lentils. talking to your loved one. you’re abroad. eating lentils. talking to your loved one. you’re not yourself. you’ve been stolen. you’re talking to your lentils. you’re not a knife, not cotton.
An auspicious start turned quickly as 5.7 miles into the ride our tour leader, Joyce, called me to ask if I was missing anything. Upon check of pockets for keys, wallet and phone I said: No.
Then she said don’t you feel lighter? And I immediately realized I left my backpack in camp. Not only was Joyce thorough in checking the campsite and finding the backpack on a far bench in camp, she was also willing toneide with it out to me about a mile and a half.
Which for me resulted in bonus miles and pushed my riding miles above 80.
Too tired to say more—or even think straight—enjoy the pictures of crossing from Massachusetts in to Rhode Island…
I rode with Steven most of the day.
The group is staying at the Providence Guest House and Hostel tonight.
Day 82 Start: Rochester, MA End: Providence, RI Miles: 81.12 / 1,324
Today was only a 72 mile day on the mapped route, but my back and forth to retrieve my back pack added 9 miles to my day.
No one in their right mind plans an 81 mile day, they happen as a result of desperation or stupidity.
What I’m Reading:
Political and religious polarisation, which appeared to be on the wane for parts of the 20th century, has increased alarmingly in the past decade . . . The world feels to me more like the 1930s and 40s at present than it has in the intervening 80 years.
— Margaret Atwood / from a speech at the British Book Awards
We biked bonus miles today due to a detour and resupplying a mile off the trail — a sort of there and back and off to the campsite in Rochester, MA.
But the day started chilly, windy, and sunny with a litany of favorite sites on the Cape Cod Rail Trail — like Seymour Pond.
Not much pedestrian or bike traffic on the rail trail early Monday morning.
Some of the touring group here getting started again after a 10-mile break stop, and heading toward the end of our time on the Cape Cod Rail Trail.
We bikes through some scenic communities like Yarmouth with its series of historic homes.
And nearby Yarmouth Port.
We had to detour around power line installation in Hyannis.
But found easy succor at Mary Lou’s Coffee down the road.
I actually ate my lunchtime sandwich in Sandwich, MA.
Here we’re getting ready to head on the second bike trail of the day the Cape Cod Canal Trail.
The trail covers both eastern and western sides of the Cape Cod Canal. Here Peter, Dan and Paula are headed toward the Sagamore Bridge—one of only two ways to get on and off Cape Cod on the road.
This is a memorable bridge crossing — not for its length or height …
… but because there is no guard rail between bicyclists and pedestrians from traffic roaring by two feet to the left.
This is the Saganore Bridge after crossing it and heading on the Canal Trail in the opposite direction.
And finally the railroad bridge at the end of the Cape Cod Canal Trail at Buzzards Bay.
Wickets Island in Buzzards Bay.
Christopher after an ice cream break at Guido’s Ice Cream in Onset Village.
Our resupply stop in West Wareham.
Day 81 Start: Brewster, MA End: Rochester, MA Miles: 60.22 / 1,243
Tomorrow 72 miles to Providence, Rhode Island.
What I’m Reading:
… An estimated 80% of banana exports which supply supermarkets around the world come from Latin America and the Caribbean — one of the most vulnerable regions to extreme weather and slow-onset climate disasters.
And yet the crop is under threat from the human-made climate crisis, and threatens a vital food source and the livelihoods of communities that have contributed virtually nothing to the greenhouse gases driving global heating.
— Nina Lakhani / “Climate crisis threatens the banana, the world’s most popular fruit, research shows” / The Guardian
The first day back was inevitably going to be short as the touring group was coming into my hometown and I was going to rejoin them at the Provincetown ferry terminal at the Boston Seaport.
My biking day didn’t start until 3pm—and other than 5.5 miles to the ferry terminal, and 3 miles in Provincetown—the lion’s share set of miles came from the 40 miles on the ferry.
All the bikes were lashed together—into a veritable horizontal layer cake of bikes.
We were all very pleased that the bikes made it across dry and sea water free.
We arrived in Provincetown just before dusk which gave us enough time to shop for groceries and set up our tents before it was dark.
Day 79 Start: Boston, MA End: Provincetown, MA Miles: 1,152
What I’m Reading:
We are You—Us is America, XY YX XXXY YXY, limitless Yes! Proclaim: P for peace, E for earth, A for all. Zero in on C for climate, E for equality. Our unity.
thee istsfor manity reader 