Day 15

by   August 21, 2021 with No Comments

By David Freeze

Why I love this so much!


    When I chose the Southern Tier trip, I saw some of the challenges and thought that I had done those things before. But as the first 15 days have developed, with the topper being today, I wouldn’t want to have missed any of it. The heat and lack of supplies has been part of the whole trip. In fact, I’ll try to explain why I do love these adventures.


    Today had a particular challenge. I had to cover close to 100 miles and get to Van Horn, Texas, the jumping off point for yet another big challenge for tomorrow. I got in late last night, got my writing, planning and shower done way late too. Just as I shutting down for the night, I realized one of the two straps that hold the bike cyclometer (juiced up odometer) to the bike was broken. I had a pull tie and only one, but it was defective. If the cyclometer fell off, I would not be easily able to keep up with my mileage. I went to sleep with about 4 1/2 hours until I would start today.


      Up early, I tried the truckstop across the road, the county rescue squad in Fort Hancock and a 7 Eleven. Nobody had one, but the woman at the rescue squad suggested trying the tire place.


    I had been riding on flat roads within site of Mexico for the first three hours of the morning. Border patrol was on hand in several places. I saw some of the wall early but as I traveled east, but then it had disappeared farther on. There were lots of abandoned houses and other buildings, and very little traffic!


    Needing to fix the cyclometer binding, I did ride up to the tire place and happened to ask a county deputy if I could ride on the interstate. Another had told me yesterday that I could, and this one confirmed the same. The tire place had the pull ties that I needed and I secured the odometer as it should be.


    My Adventure Cycling map called for us to ride the interstate a little later in the morning, but after the Arizona State Trooper didn’t want me on the freeway, I made sure. I rode it the rest of the way today and will start on it again tomorrow. Early on, I had a tailwind and flat ground. The only towns all afternoon were Sierra Blanca and Van Horn, where I am tonight after 97 miles.


  Riding on the interstate is Ok because the shoulder is usually smooth and the Texas 80mph traffic doesn’t bother me. In this area, the traffic isn’t very heavy. Late this afternoon, some storms started against the mountains and changed my tailwind to a fierce headwind. I climbed the last mountain of the day and wind was less on the other side. The time zone changed to Central just before I arrived in Van Horn. My plan was to stay at the Knight’s Inn that I called last night, but the desk person wouldn’t give me the promised price. I had lots of choices and half a block away will spend the night at the Value Inn for even less money.


    Already, later than I hoped to be in the room because of the weather, I found a great convenience store where I bought ice cream, pizza and a sandwich, plus three ice cups and some pineapple. I am always so hungry.


    Tomorrow’s challenge includes midday climbing to over 6,000 one more time. It’s 90 miles with no supply points and no motels, so I have to carry lots of stuff tomorrow and make it to Fort Davis. It will likely be a very long day!


    Join me for a report tomorrow. Bet something interesting happens!

It’s Monday

by   August 21, 2021 with No Comments

By Doug Creamer

            When I opened my eyes this morning I thought, “Well, I better get moving, it’s Monday.” I have to admit, I wanted to roll over and keep sleeping. I got myself up and started to get ready. I teach classes online. It’s a great job; I only have to get the top half of me ready. I usually wear sweats and slippers on the bottom and a shirt and tie on top. If my wife sees me dressed like that she gets a good laugh for the day.

            This morning as I started to set up my online classroom, I noticed that the internet wasn’t working. It went out last night but I thought surely it would be working by the morning. I had five classes and I wasn’t going to miss them. My option at this point was to drive to church and teach on my laptop.

            I had to get fully dressed, pack up my things, and drive as quickly as I could to church in hopes that I could make it for my first class. The clock was ticking. I was a few minutes late and the company locked me out of my first class. I wasn’t terribly shocked and thought that I would have more time to set up everything for my next class.

            I logged in and started to set everything up, only to discover that I didn’t have my camera with me. My laptop doesn’t have a camera. I jumped back in the car and drove back home to get the camera and return to the church in time to have my second class of the day. I made it. My classes went smoothly.

            When I finished my classes I was emotionally and mentally drained. I had to run an errand while I was out. My stomach was complaining about when breakfast would arrive. While I was driving I thought to myself what a crazy and stressful way to begin the week. I took a deep breath and decided I wasn’t going to allow one missed class to ruin a good day.

            As I was making my way home I noticed trees and limbs down. A little farther down, I saw utility trucks parked and men working. Then there were cable and AT&T trucks. There were people dragging limbs out to the road. Then I saw a house where a tree had fallen right through the middle of it. A once beautiful two-story home, now demolished.

            I knew we had severe storms in the area the night before, which was why the cable was out. I didn’t know so many other people were dealing with such terrible problems. I saw the man surveying his once beautiful home. My heart sank for him and his family. I heard from a neighbor that there was quite a bit of damage in another neighborhood not too far from mine.

            I sat quietly on my porch this morning having my quiet time. I realized that my little hiccup was nothing compared to what some people were facing on this Monday morning. I prayed for the family that lost their home. Here are some other people I prayed for this morning: some friends who are fighting COVID, some friends who are fighting to keep their marriage alive, all the students and teachers heading back to their classrooms not knowing what kind of year they will have with this virus, the people who are in the path of the tropical storm that was coming ashore, the people living in Afghanistan, some people who have never believed in Jesus as their savior, and others who have walked away from their faith.

            Losing my internet and missing a class seemed so unimportant compared to what others were facing. I texted my pastor about my morning, and he texted back that Psalms 145 was a part of his scripture reading for the day. I read it twice. There was so much there to meditate on. God’s love, His protection, His worthiness to receive our praise, and His abundant provision were just a few of them.

            No matter what kind of day you’ve had, I want to encourage you to remember that God loves you and has His eye on you and your situation. He is with you and He will see you through whatever you face. He loves you profoundly. If you have walked away from Him, He is waiting for your return. He will quiet your fears, take away your doubts, and forgive all your sins and failures. God promises to be with you today, tomorrow, and every day if you will put your faith in Him.

Doug Creamer has a new book at Amazon: EncouragingU: Summer Stories. Contact him at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com

Day 14

by   August 20, 2021 with No Comments

By David Freeze

Crossing America, one convenience store at a time!

  Today was very busy, but fell just short of my expectations! I left the home of Joe and Grace Myers at first light this morning. About 7 miles into it, I found a convenience store that had a woman making breakfast burritos by order and I got one. It was fantastic with egg, cheese and potato. She was out of tomatoes, or I would have had that too.


  Afterwards the riding began in earnest, I rolled through Mesilla and turned down an offer for free pancakes at a church. I pedaled through 8-10 miles of pecan tree canopy with plenty of other cyclists out there too. I then rode through several interesting Hispanic towns named San Miguel, La Mesa, Chamberino, all that on US 28. The sweet smell of hay being processed made for an even better day. Then I followed the suggested route of taking a 7 mile bike way into El Paso, before attempting to follow two sets of directions to cross the east side. I got lost once, but asked a border guard at one of the Mexico entrance points for directions. He pleasantly helped, then I had to deal with a detour before finally getting on US 20 East for the rest of the afternoon.


  Traveling though the center of El Paso was very crowded and hilly, plus I saw no bike lanes in that area. I did not enjoy that part, especially the endless intersections. Gradually as I moved on east, there were Socorro, Clint and Fabens. I am spending the night next to Interstate 10 at the Fabens Inn Motel. I paid too much, but it was the only option for 25 more miles. All this after 87 miles today.


  All afternoon, I kept refueling at convenience stores and it was hard to delineate one town from another. With daylight running out, I gave up on my plan to go way over 100 miles. Storms were in the area too. It will be many days before I have lots of supply points available. They begin getting scarce tomorrow.


    I did have a very pleasant conversation with Carmelo Morales of El Paso who said that if he didn’t have to work he would doing this too. He is the first person I have ever met that offered me a tire tube that fit my bike out of his truck. Carlos gave me plenty of insight on the road ahead.


    Starting tomorrow, I am going to be limited in supply points and places to stay. But still, I have big plans for the day. Big ones too for the next day. I will explain all of this tomorrow.


  I was reminded today how the most famous river in the area keeps showing up, same as the Ohio River did on my Underground Railroad adventure. The more I see the Rio Grande, the more I understand how the local economy relies on it. Agriculture is everywhere!


    Thanks for riding along today. I am going to start on some ice cream in an effort to keep the massive calorie burn fueled.


    See you tomorrow with possibly yet another great story!

Twenty Year Journey

by   August 20, 2021 with No Comments

By Roger Barbee

Twenty years ago this morning I awoke in an ICU ward in Fairfax Hospital. The night before I had had two nineteen-inch titanium rods screwed to my back because that afternoon a building I was taking down collapsed– pinning me beneath it. My broken back had to be stabilized, thus the rods.

I remember a little of  that morning: Seeing through the fog of morphine a friend who had flown on a red eye from California to see me; The ICU nurse’s long, black, curly hair that fell over my face when she leaned in to ask me a question; My body still carrying the dust and dirt from the collapsed building; My family huddled in fear and worry; But not much more. Snippets in memory that may or may not be accurate run together with what I know to be true. But what I know to be absolute is that that morning and many after it held doubt and fear and dread until I, as Mary Oliver writes, realized.

Like the narrator in her poem, The Journey, I realized one morning or at one moment or with a particular encounter that it was time—time for me to expel all the bad that I had allowed to enter into my life.  I realized that at times during those four years, my dark time, I ignored what I knew to be the truth and allowed the voices to continue tugging at “my ankles.” But as Oliver writes, “One day you finally knew/what you had to do, and began,…” And like most beginnings, mine was full of slow progress, but “Little by little” I improved, and I eventually left the “Old man” that Paul writes about behind. But like all journeys, mine was not just me placing a foot in front of another. I had begun journeying, but I was not walking alone.

After I set aside the leeches in my life, I was able to reckon myself and take an honest sounding. This sounds selfish, but when you find yourself so miserable that the only option seems to be to continue your denial or to admit that you have been at the bottom of a dark hole, digging and digging, all the while wondering why you cannot escape and see the sunlight and feel its warmth, it is then that you set aside the shovel those takers had given you and deeply consider where you are.  Finally able to lean the shovel against the hole’s side,   I began to stop going down and began to move up, ever so slowly. It was on that going upward that I saw my true friends and learned to allow them to help me.

One of the best advantages of any journey is the people you will encounter. You will meet them in unlikely places and in unusual circumstances. Because your journey is one of renewal, you will move slowly, so you will see and hear more. While your journey may not be one of steps,  you will still discover that your frantic pace to satisfy others has ceased, and you now see and hear what you had not experienced before. The ground you are traveling over becomes a sharing place for you to hear the stories of others, to smell the air of an autumn day, to feel the sun’s warmth through a  window, to hear a child’s laughter, and more. You are alive.

My journey continues because of family and friends. While I could list all of them, there is no need to because they each know what they did to help me as I finally leaned the shovel against the hole’s wall. The hole, by the  way, is still there, however, and it will never go away. It is a reminder of life’s danger, but I have learned to accept its existence and walk around it.

When measured in years, twenty is many. But when measured as a journey, it is short. Therefore, wherever you are on your journey, enjoy each step that brings more people to share it.  They are the balm for your sore and tired feet.

Day 13

by   August 18, 2021 with No Comments

By David Freeze

A most enjoyable day


  After a very pleasant sleep at the Black Range Lodge in Kingston, New Mexico, I headed down the mountain for almost nine more miles to Hillsboro. Hillsboro has a restaurant that thrives and a lot of beautiful older homes, but it was very quiet as I rode through.


    Then on to Caballo, where there is a huge reservoir and a nice convenience store. The store clerk told me that in September and October there will be several hundred cyclists stopping by his store on my same route. Next came Arrey, the first store with ice for my drinks, then Derry, Garfield and Salem.


  Next was Hatch, where I could spent lots of time. There was plenty to see, sort of a reminder of a Route 66 town. Hatch is the Chili Capital of the World and it was booming. Then Radium Springs was less exciting, but that was just after Joe Myers joined me for the last 19 miles into Las Cruces. I am staying in Joe’s daughter’s house tonight. Joe is from La Luz, New Mexico and his mother, Catherine, lives in Statesville. Joe’s aunt, Margaret, and her husband, Bob Harris, live on High Rock.


  This is my last night in New Mexico. Today highlights included lots of crops planted along the Rio Grande, including peppers, soybeans, corn and vast amounts of pecan trees. I saw one man screen for gold from a creek, something I would like to do. Something I didn’t see was the town of Truth or Consequences after the route veered away from it. Sounds like a great name for a town.


    Today’s ride totaled 91 miles, but finished with a tailwind, clouds and the pleasant ride with Joe. My legs felt terrible this morning but came around in the afternoon.


    I’m excited to head for Texas tomorrow, although it will make up nearly 1,000 miles of the whole trip. The heat wasn’t as bad today, but will return. Keep riding along and sending those prayers!

Time, Precious Time

by   August 17, 2021 with No Comments

By David Freeze

Have you ever thought about how time is rushing past us? Does it get faster as we get older, or are we just more aware? I think it’s the latter. One of the worst phrases I’ve ever heard is “I’m just killing time.” Why would you do that?

Since this is a running and fitness column, I’ve had some fast races, enough of them for four straight state champion recognitions. Those fastest times came when I was in my early 40s. I can only remember being that fast, and there is some wonderment still at how my body was able to do it. Most of my training runs now are not really training for anything except to keep in shape and think through what’s on my plate for the upcoming day.

With increased clarity, I know a lot about time. Not racing time so much, but what time really represents. Most of us like to think that we get wiser as we get older, but I think that I get slower as I get a little wiser. Is it my body reshuffling resources? That sounds logical.

So, before telling you what to do with your time, I will tell you what I plan to do with mine. I’ve long said that I love challenges and the quickest way to get my attention is to throw one at me. One example is the day that Ed Dupree, from his hospital bed at Novant, said to me, “Will you run across the state for me? It is one of the few regrets I have, never getting to do it.”

I couldn’t shake that request, knowing that I would take Ed’s challenge within minutes after his words were spoken. My first concern of course, was how to make the time for the road. By nightfall, I had a plan, knowing that I could move this or that and even swing by home on the route to meet one commitment.

The No. 1 common thread I hear in discussions with readers about my bike rides goes something like this, “I wish I could do something like that, but I don’t have the time.” There seem to be two options that have to be considered. Either use lack of time forever as an excuse and never chase your dream, making sure you can fuel yourself with regret going forward. Or set about scheduling just how you will do it. Not necessarily talking about a bike ride but realizing that one day most of us will have a chance to look back on our lives and recount something like this, “I didn’t get to do the things I wanted to. I was good at work and watching TV and keeping the yard mowed. Now it is too late to take time to do my thing.”

My favorite points when talking with a personal training client are twofold. No one will be impressed when your time runs out and your obituary reads about how good you were at work. And at some point, you need to make time for dreams which is really time for yourself. When you do these things, you will be better for others around you.

Two choices I have made, and hope they always remain in place, are simple. When given a choice whether to take time to do something new or stay back with more of the same, choose to break out and do the new thing! Count me in the group that plans to slide into the grave with the body used up, not “killing time” on the way to unfilled dreams.

And finally about time, it is by far the best gift we can give. Track where a person invests their time, and you’ll know what is really important to that person. Invest time in yourself as a means to investing your time in others, the most important and meaningful thing we can do!

Check for upcoming events at www.salisburyrowanrunners.org .

Day 12

by   August 16, 2021 with No Comments

By David Freeze

The last big climb


  I left Silver City and a nice room at the Cooper Canyon Motel early this morning, focused on getting over Emory Pass, the highest point on this ride. I was loaded with supplies because the towns ahead looked questionable.


    All the riding was challenging, up and down, right from the start. After leaving US 180, I turned uphill on 152. Shortly afterward, I met the most interesting person on the ride so far. Sam Ortega stopped because he thought I needed a ride right before Hanover. We talked about several things and really hit it off. Sam was worried about me and ending up giving me ice water, a snack, gloves and a rag. I even expected I might see him later.


  The next town was missing when I passéd San Lorenzo. So far none of the towns had supplies, but I had carried enough for the big climb ahead. The terrain kept getting steeper, resembling some of the long climbs I had experienced out west in the bigger mountains.


    I met about 30 cows coming down the road that I was going up. They were herded by a truck following them. Evidently cows are kept in the area because of many cattle grates in the road.


    Finally, at about 5:30pm, I topped the mountain at 8,228 feet, grabbed a few photos and started down 8 steep miles headed for the Black Range Lodge in Kingston. A couple miles down, I hit one of the most memorable thunderstorms I’ve ever experienced. Heavy, blowing rain, with occasional lightning and hail. My fingers were so cold that I could barely grip the break levers and the rain made the brakes struggle to slow the bike. Then the road started flooding.


    Struggling mightily, I found the road for the lodge and pedaled through more flooding. Catherine, one of the owners, told me that they had not received such heavy rain in months. I’m warm, happy, and ready to sleep after just 48 super challenging miles.


    I did find out that the huge man made mountains I had seen the last few days are the leftovers of copper mining. I visited the observation area for the Santa Rita Mine, one of the oldest and largest in the world.


    Tomorrow, most of the riding will be downhill and I am ready for that. Texas is just a couple days away! Join me tomorrow!

Lay Down With Me

by   August 16, 2021 with No Comments

By Ann Farabee

Lay down with me

This is a difficult column to write. Not easy, but applicable to our lives, for sure. Grab a tissue and hang with me. (Yes, I know the title is grammatically incorrect, but it will be okay.)

Several years ago, my brother went through two weeks of suffering as he was in the valley of the shadow of death and then went on to be with the Lord.

The prognosis was given within hours of taking him to the emergency room, as the doctor returned to us and said, “It’s not good news, Mr. Miles.”

My younger brother looked right to me – and needed for me to step into action. I did the best I could. I worked non-stop making sure everything – and I mean everything – was taken care of. I was going to be there for him during this difficult time. He would not – and I mean would NOT – feel alone as he faced his final weeks on Earth.

The days began to pass. His words became fewer – sometimes there were none – his eyes would follow me around the room as I helped him in every way that came to mind, like conferring with doctors and hospital staff or holding his cup and straw for him as he seemed so grateful to be able to have a sip of water. I made sure his physical environment was just right – blinds adjusted, tray area neat, lights on or off, and door open or shut. Anything that I thought would help.

On one of his final days, as I straightened the sheets and fluffed the pillow on his bed, I heard him whisper – almost inaudible at first and very labored – but I leaned in close and figured it out one word at a time. Lay…down…with…me.

Tears filled my eyes. I quickly released the side rail on the bed that had separated us, and climbed in beside him. He edged slightly closer to me, and I felt his body relax as I held one of his hands and wrapped my other arm across his chest. It seemed that time left me at that point – not sure how long we stayed in that position – but I wish I had stayed even longer.

Reality crashed down. I had been doing important things for him – very important things – but in that moment, “Lay down with me,” took precedence over every single fiber of my existence. I became not just a helper or an advocate for his needs, but I was a participant in what he was experiencing, creating one of my most powerful and priceless memories ever.

Lay down with me. The incorrect grammar? Yes, the correct version would be to say, “Lie down with me.” But a meaning of ‘lay down’ is ‘to put something down.’ So, what may have been imperfect grammar on that day ended up being a perfect message from God:

We sometimes need to ‘lay down’ some things – put some things down, even though they may be important and need to be done. Because most of the time, they are not more important than the “with-me’s” in our lives.

Why share this story now? A few days ago, my grandsons were once again ready to play Monopoly. Their conversation: The 10 year old – Maybe Mama GG could play. The 13 year old – No, she always has other things to do.

My thoughts as I heard them from the kitchen: Is that how they think of me? I always have other ‘things’ to do? Really? Don’t they realize how busy I am? These ‘things’ must be done!

Then, a still small voice – from God and my brother in heaven – reminded my heart, “Lay. Down. With. Me.” My “with me’s” needed me, so I decided to ‘lay down’ the dish I was drying, and let the Monopoly game begin. (Yes, those games can last a long time, but someday I may wish it had lasted a little longer.)

How about you? It may not be a child that needs you. It may not be a sick friend or family member that needs you. It may be totally different circumstances than mine.

And…it may be Jesus, who just wants us to ‘lay down’ the ‘things’ that we are convinced must be done first – and instead – spend time with Him.

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