LEFT: Milk cartels from yesterday at work at the border.
Day 2:
No sleeping pad was a bad idea. The cold, hard ground made for a rough night and I woke up with a snotty nose. I hoped to spend a bit of time recording the previous day since there wasn’t an iota of downtime in the 11 hours in the saddle. But with mileage to make and legs that may be unwilling, I got on the road.
It occurred to me that the genesis of this trip came from the numbing routine of writing cover letters from my parents’ kitchen table (although appreciative of their generosity) and the seemingly clear connection between needing to move.
It wasn’t really about the economy or the fear of swirling down the economic toilet as “Debt Ceiling” discussion is on every front page. However, this bike trip was inspired and made a necessity by elements having to do with both of those things. Still, thus far, it seems that the bike part and the job-searching part of the trip have been very separate. I flew to Seattle from the east coast and spent four days “procuring” used touring bike equipment in the summer – a task all bike shop salesmen and community biking groups said would be impossible. I found a Croatian American bike fanatic, a friend of a friend, who had been hit on his bike while commuting to work three weeks ago. His horrible misfortune (a badly bruised leg and a totaled bike) turned into a stroke of luck for me as he can’t work at his job but spends his days hobbling around his living room, fixing up old bikes. He made me a little diddy I named Tito after his ancestral dictator. While doing this I arranged meetings and interviews while sitting on curbs and at coffee shops. I researched pannier set-ups and chased down maps. Bikes then jobs then routes then interviews.
So far the open road has assuaged the psychological aggravation and angst of being unemployed. My little grey bike is my noble steed carrying me on my job-hunt. Starbucks and McDonalds with free wi-fi are my office. I put a set of pressed “interview clothes” in a plastic bag and buried them in one pannier so that I can arrive crisp at meetings. Yet often I tell my interviewers about my journey. Jobs are so scare in the US and each position receives an extraordinary quantity of applicants so I hope this detail will make me distinctive. Still biking seemed to be one component to this adventure. Job-hunting seemed to be another.
At Larrabee State Park in Washington I met Dan, a guy from Bend, Oregon who lost his Meineke shop and with 800 dollars to his name, decided to go to Alaska to look for work. And Nancy, a woman whose house was foreclosed upon in Colorado, bought a motorcycle and decided to live off credit cards for a while since she really has nothing more to loose, she says. Perhaps one thing that commonly results from unemployment and slipping into that economic toilet is a need to get out in the world, physically move through it and hope that the journey will provide some direction that the job market hasn’t. I’ve refound a connection, although it’s not exactly how I envisioned it.
Dan found me on the road a couple miles later. He was on his way to catch the boat in Bellingham to Alaska. He pulled an orange reflective vest from his truck.
"You should wear this", he said.
"Thanks - my mom would be grateful to you". I've worn it since. I can also hold STOP signs at road closure, if need be.
Day 3:
Small town Arlington, Washington did not have a single coffee shop – well, at least one that you didn’t have to drive through. When I asked about this, I was directed to the Starbucks in the Safeway or the McDonalds up the street. All roads lead to these two shops, it’s amazing. I ordered a coffee at the McDonalds and set up my computer. Might as well profit from the wi-fi while I’m at it. The man next to me, sharing my outlet was glued to his screen. He looked up despondently.
“Following the US economy as it crashes”, he said. “We’re down 300 points”. In front of him was the business section of the newspaper and he was making marks next to individual stocks.
“Sure feel sorry for those with 401ks”. In front of his newspaper was a Bible, laid open with dog eared pages. He was either double tasking Bible school homework or hoping that God may have something more hopeful to say than the business page and the stock market page on his screen. It seems the economy seeps into interactions on this trip whether I ask about it or not. They ride up next to me on coastal highways or invite conversation at McDonalds.
It’s Obama’s 50th birthday today. Although it seems our economy is sliding down a slippery slope, I hope he does something fun today. He deserves it.
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