Where cool was born

 FAIRMOUNT, INDIANA. After crossing Illinois, which made Iowa look mountainous, we spent three days in Urbana. It was good to see our friends from high school and college and our bodies really needed the rest. When we left Urbana we followed county roads most of the way across Indiana. The roads we were on weren’t on the map so we only had a general idea where we were at any given time. It made it a little difficult planning breaks and restocking our supplies.
One of the towns we did happen to go through was Fairmount. When we stopped at the first stoplight we had seen in a hundred miles we heard oldies music and saw classic cars lining the streets. We stopped to look around and found that we were in the town that James Dean grew up in and that they have a festival for him every September. We ended up camping under the water tower and went to the car show the next morning.

The museum in town had a lot of Dean’s stuff, including the motorcycle he owned when he died. There was also a room dedicated to Garfield, because Jim Davis, his creator, was also from Fairmount. That’s how Garfield made it onto the water tower with Dean.


At the car show, called the Annual James Dean Run, there were lots of fifties-era Mercurys like Dean drove in Rebel Without a Cause. We decided to get our pictures taken in front of our favorite cars. Neither of us chose a Mercury, nor the replica of the Porsche Spyder that Dean was driving when he died.

Finally, on our way out of town we stopped at the cemetery where Dean is buried. It’s true, his marker is smeared with lipstick from loving fans. You can also see an unlit cigarette someone left for him.

Cow Psychology

Originally Posted Sept. 23, 2004 by Mags

Our main pleasure as we cross the dull, husked prairie (or, as one sign benevolently described it- “A Friendly Land of Infinite Variety”) is an investigation of America's most beloved and well-fed animal: the cow. Although range cows have been maligned by many as the laziest, fly-infested, chigger-ridden, land eroding, disgustingly bloated maggots ever to trample the earth, we intend to take a more objective approach in identifying their unique traits and psychology. Our field work into cow psychology is conducted in the plains and prairie states of the western and mid-western United States. A typical field experiment proceeds as follows:

Somewhere in the rolling hills of South Dakota, Nebraska or Iowa

We plow wind, our knee caps split with pain. Then they appear as we round a curve. Cows! Brown, black and white cows, all stationary with their heads bowed to the grass. Then the sentry cow lifts her head and looks at us. Her spoon shaped ears stick out on each side of the broad face, her two front legs are stanchioned beneath her torso. The torso stretches outwards and downwards within a huge ribcage. Soon the entire herd of 72 cows is staring at us. We are now 10 feet from the sentry cow separated only by a barbed wire fence. “GITONOUTTAHERE! MOVE IT MOVE IT! GIT-GIT!” The cows start and begin to stand. “GITONOUTTAHERE!” we yell again. We are jubilant. The sentry cow turns and trots up a hill behind the herd. Then all of them are running up the hill. Tremendous bellies of all colors swing from side to side. Cow flesh surges together in herd flight. At the crest of the hill they've all come together, they rub and brush each other as they run. 

Analysis of field experiment:
The first sign of the herd’s intelligence is the detection of the researchers before we speak. It is to their credit that the herd is able to distinguish us (brightly clad pirates on a long bike) from the 18-wheelers that rush past them everyday. The herd’s ability to identify something abnormal such as us suggests that the herd may still perceive danger although their capacity to avoid danger, say, in the shape of a grizzly bear has been greatly reduced by hundreds of years of human selection for massive torso size and small leg diameter. 

The next indication of the cow's intelligence is its ability to distinguish between different words. In early attempts to incite exercise among the herd we would yell the word "maa". In practice it sounds like a twisted, harsh version of "moo". A "maa" shouted in a shrill stacotto only ever illicited a glance from the herd but the phrase "GITONOUTTAHERE" caused a swift, organized stampede in 71% of the trials. 

In conclusion, we suggest that cows are not stupid, stinky beasts but are actually sensitive, community oriented hive organisms that respond well to repeated phrases and high decibel yelling.

Posted by Mags at 02:57 PM | Comments (1)

Original Comments:  Cow Psychology

Your cow story brought back memories of when I was dating Earl. He had spent the summer building a small boat and was eager to try it out on the Jordan River. As we floated down the river we saw a baby calf that had fallen into the water. The distressed mother cow was standing near the washed out bank bellowing for it to climb out. It was obvious there was no way it could get get up over that steep bank. I told Earl that if he could get the boat over to the bank and stable it there with the paddle that I could climb out and help the calf up. I had barely exited the boat when the whole herd that had been grazing not far away came stampeding right towards me. GETOUTOFHERE was exactly what was going through my mind as I almost tipped the boat over trying to get back in. Then I heard Earl say Stop!Look! I turned and watched as the bull or master of the herd came down and got in front of them and they all stood frozen in place. He certainly had control over them and it was obvious that he recognized I was going to help.I climbed out again and took hold of the front legs of the little one and helped it up over the edge. It immediatly ran over to its mother and began nursing and the others returned to their grazeing.

Posted by Shirley Harris at September 24, 2004 10:49 PM

 

Dog's Country

Originally Posted Sept. 22, 2004 by Mags

 We’re lucky that we didn’t get some chunks of flesh taken out of our thighs during our first morning in Indiana. During the first hour’s ride about 10 dogs from 10 separate houses aggressively pursued us. At one place a vicious little brown dog took after us, we spurted off and then just as the brown dog was giving up another dog from the neighboring house ran after us. The good thing about being chased by dogs is that you go fast without really thinking about it- you’re so worried about those slicing white teeth latching on to your Achilles tendon. The only leash laws in Indiana must decree that all dogs go unleashed because almost every house had a dog and almost every dog was loose and feisty. I got so paranoid that I put some pepper spray in my pocket in case we couldn’t get away fast enough. All the dogs in Ohio have been quite friendly- most are locked up and the ones that aren’t just want to play. Just before we reached Fairmount, Indiana we met Helmut and Josie on one of the small country roads. Helmut is a very friendly guy who saw us riding down the road and called out at us to come back. Helmut came to America in 1960 and worked as a skilled tradesman for General Electric in several states. His wife, Josie is from Chicago and they’ve lived in Indiana for several years. It was fun to talk with them- they gave us some water and some cookies (Helmut said that was his good deed for the year) and we headed out towards Fairmount. Anyways, we’re now in Ohio, which is quite stinky in the flat areas- lots of pig and poultry farms. The smell is a combination of toejam, fermented dirt and sweaty socks. It makes Chad smell like a strawberry pie. 

Original Comments: Dog's Country

Strawberry pie? Somehow I doubt that.
I was delivering Matheson for Governor literature several weeks ago in the Orem area. I walked up a driveway and suddenly faced a charging, frothing, black lab. I nearly wet myself. Fortunately, the homeowner was in the garage and called off the fearsome animal. I thanked him and handed him the literature. I think he wished he hadn't saved my life. Maybe dogs are meant to protect us from unwanted mail.

Posted by Doc at September 28, 2004 08:14 AM

 

As I read about the dogs I couldn't help but think of your (Margaret) fated attempt to walk poor Emma last year. I could just imagine Emma's yaps piercing the neighborhood after you rang the doorbell to see if anyone was home, and her continued hair-bristling growling that was meant to keep intruders away as you peered through the back door. Little did she know that it was you, a tired grad student longing merely to stretch your desk-cramped legs with the excuse of a locked up furry creature needing love and leg stretching as motive to put off that thesis yet a little longer. She sorely missed out that day. Maybe these dogs were really just wanting a little exercise too?
I don't know how many people out there are following this trip. . .but these pages have kept me entertained all summer, and continue to be a good excuse to put off all of my homework just a little longer :)
p.s. just got back to Seattle, and in case you were wondering, it is still rainy.

Posted by Starr at September 30, 2004 01:00 AM

 

That was a great article and photo in the newspaper. I was only able to read the first page as it was continued on page 4A and somehow I can't figure out how to make this computer find that page as of now. Love, Mom

Posted by shirley at October 1, 2004 08:37 PM

Though hard to you this journey may appear

Originally Published Sept. 18, 2004 by Chad

For the past few days we have been following the Mormon trail. That is the route the Mormon pioneers, including some of my ancestors, followed across the prairie that eventually led them to the valley of the Great Salt Lake. They followed the trail to flee persecution. We too were persecuted a few times by teenagers in cars heckling us as they drove by.

In truth, however, we didn’t really follow any trail. We followed the “Mormon Pioneer National Historic Trail Auto Tour Route.” We hoped we would see historical markers—you know, the brown signs at the sides of highways that nobody ever stops to read—along the way, but there weren’t many of those. There were occasional signs indicating we were crossing the actual trail the pioneers followed, but the cornfields there looked just like the cornfields everywhere else. I think once the trail went through a field of soybeans. That was interesting.

Just east of Fort Madison, Iowa we crossed a toll bridge (free for bicycles) over the Mississippi River, and then turned south for nine miles to Nauvoo, Illinois. Nauvoo is a city built on previously unwanted swamplands that was the epicenter of Mormondom from 1839 to 1846. In its heyday it had nearly fifteen thousand inhabitants and rivaled Chicago in size.

Mormons, or Latter-day Saints, as we prefer to be called, came from all over the U.S. and Europe to settle in Nauvoo. They were building their Zion where they could prosper and worship freely. But while the city flourished, tension between the Mormons and other residents turned to violence. When Joseph Smith, the Mormon prophet and leader, was killed by a mob in 1844 the Mormons knew they must move west again.

Now one hundred fifty eight yeas later, the Mormons are back in Nauvoo again. They have turned most of what remains of the old city into something of a Mormon Disneyland. The buildings have been restored, there are wagon rides for kids of all ages, and demonstrations by blacksmiths, bakers, carpenters, rope makers and candlestick makers, all done by unpaid volunteers. Everyone should go there at least once, and it’s all free.

Although much of the history of the place seemed to be glossed over with LDS positivism, Nauvoo has been so well restored that it is impossible to not get a sense of the hardships those pioneers went through to build their city, and the even greater trauma of leaving it all behind.

There were two highlights of my visit to Nauvoo. First was the raccoon that chewed through our panniers and stole all of our food when we camped at Nauvoo State Park. You might say that gave me a sense of the persecution and later the starvation the pioneers endured.

The second highlight came from the land and records building. There I looked up my great-great-great grandfather and learned where in town he had owned land. We went to the lot and discovered a home still there. It looked like an old home, but I’m not sure if it is really his home. I should have knocked on the door to ask the current occupants.



Seeing the lot where one of my ancestors had lived and labored to build the city of Nauvoo, then learning about the trials he and his fellow believers went through, brought him to life for me in a way I’ve never before felt. I will be forever grateful that he and his family moved west so I could grow up among the mountains of Utah instead of the desolate and often boring Midwest. Its endless cornfields and endless winds were sometimes too much to bear.

I wonder what my great-great-great grandfather would have to say if he saw the way I live today. Would he choose to travel by bicycle instead of Ox and wagon? I don’t know, but he would probably chide me for imagining heckling from teenagers as persecution.

Posted by Chad at 09:00 AM | Comments (4)

 

 

Original Comments: Though hard to you this journey may appear

 

I enjoyed reading that you were able to visit David Cluffs land and seeing the pictures of it you sent to my regular email address. I think you should put that picture of you standing in front of the house on this website. Who knows maybe one of our distant relatives may see it and be able to identify whether it is the original house.
Posted by shirley at September 20, 2004 10:20 PM

 

OK, it's there now.

Posted by Chad at September 21, 2004 07:44 AM

 

--News of Twins—They are about ready to come home—maybe tomorrow the 23rd
--Maggie’s allergies—Your staples of cheese and bread may be making your allergies worse. Check your email for additional info from me
--Nauvoo relatives of Margaret’s—Husband and wife Enoch Perham Rollins and Sophia Philbrook. Came with 7 of their children to Nauvoo 6 weeks after the Prophet Joseph Smith was martyred. They were very disappointed not to have been able to meet him. According to a family history “Enoch spent a great deal of time working on the Temple. Was ordained into the 8th Quorum of Seventies. His trade of wheelwright and carpenter was very much needed in the wagon shops where he helped the brethren with their outfits to come west.” Two of their children died in Nauvoo, and their last child Charles Drowne Rollins was born in Nauvoo. Charles is Margaret’s great-great-great-?grandfather on the Harris side. On the Fox side of the family Henry Allen Beal and his parent John and Ann Deacon Beal, Myron Nathan Crandall and Tryphena Bisbee were married in Nauvoo.
Love, Melanie

Posted by Melanie Harris at September 22, 2004 09:19 AM

 

Dear Ones,
Better to be attacked by racoon than bear but too bad if you had to replace your bike furniture. That equipment is probably hard to come by in the small towns around Nauvoo.
I got into your "connections" and thought about architecture and vocal music. When we were in Wales I noted that many older homes looked alot like those in Nauvoo and again in some pioneer town of Utah. Many of our ancestors came from Wales. In addition, I bought a CD of Wales choir music and it sounded so much like the Tab Choir. When wondering at times who we are (the Polynesians for example seem to have a firm grip on who they are) seeing the stream of architecture and hearing the patterns of music gave me a clearer sense of who I am.
Thinking of twins - Natasha, Nikia and myself moved the crib (dissembled and reattached) from Natasha's room to Logan and Glory's bedroom then fixed it all up with new mattress and covers for Chantell and Jadira. It would have been fun to be there when they arrived home today (if it happened).
Love, Dad Carl
Posted by Carl Harris at September 22, 2004 08:47 PM

 

Centerville, Iowa

Originally Posted Sept. 13, 2004 by Mags

The good news is the winds have finally stopped! The bad news is that the rains began this morning. Last night it blew ferociously the whole night. The wind combined with the itchy, sweaty, sticky conditions produced by the excessive humidity, lack of showers and everpresent bugs created a very restless non-sleep filled night. However, we hope to find a shower tonight and we're making better time due to the lack of winds. The rain is a bit chilly but a relief from the stuffiness. We plan to be in Nauvoo by tomorrow. Stopped at Garden Grove, IA this morning where the Mormons established a settlement in 1846 on their way west. They had several buildings and it was a nice pit stop for future migrants. They're kicking me off the computer- so bye for now.

Posted by Mags at 01:51 PM | Comments (4)

 

Original Comments: Centerville, Iowa

 

Dear Margaret and Chad,

I'm sorry you're having to deal with so many irritations all at once but I guess it by contrasts that we come appreciate when things are really good. Are you going to stay at the Nauvoo State Park Campground? That was the place we stayed at for several days back when our larger Harris family gathered there. That was when Bret Goodwin went with us and he and Addie kind of had eyes for each other. There is another nice campground just walking distance south of town run by the Reorganized LDS that we stayed at a couple of years ago when we had the latest large Harris Reunion. Two years ago this coming November we had our annual siblings (me and my siblings and spouces) get together in Nauvoo. We stayed in the White House bed and breakfast. Just a couple of blocks east of the temple. In August of 1969 Mom, Heidi, Logan, and I stayed at a little motel on the south side of the road as you enter Nauvoo from the east. It is still there and brought back memories when we saw it a couple of years ago because the night we stayed there the water in the parking lot was up to the hub caps on our little Econoline Ford Van because of a downpour. Natasha's birthday this Saturday. Love, Dad
Posted by Carl Harris at September 16, 2004 06:36 AM

 

Chad & Mags:

I'm watching your trip with a lot of interest. It's incredible to see how far you have gone. There's a couple from our ward serving a mission in Nauvoo (Monte & Shirley Holt). If you're still in Nauvoo try to look them up - I'm sure they are good for a free meal. Tell them you know me - my son is actually house sitting for them while they are on their mission
Best and Warmest Regards

Posted by David Johnston at September 17, 2004 09:56 AM

 

We met you when Bob & Joyce Gillman visited your folks in July. Your journey makes fascinating reading. We did visit Rapid city some years ago on a tour of the USA - we saw Mount Rushmore from a tiny helicopter.We think our trip in the hire car was more comfortable than your bike ride. Good luck on the rest of your journey.
Janet, Ron & Chris in Culcheth, Northwest England.

Posted by Janet, Ron & Chris Davies at September 18, 2004 07:44 AM

 

Hi Chad and Mags,
I just got my own email address so I can write to you now and you can write me. I'll be followig your website more closely now I hope. Take care.
Posted by devin at September 19, 2004 10:48 PM

 

Pyramid scams

Originally Posted September 13, 2004 by Chad

ANITA, IOWA. I am tired of all this wind. It saps our strength and motivation faster than any mountain ever did. Today we crossed Interstate 80 and continued three miles south to Anita, where we stopped for a break from the wind and the sun at the Anita Café. It’s right downtown. I ordered a turtle sundae and Mags got a strawberry milkshake. While we were waiting for our ice cream we were approached by a woman from another table. I knew we were in trouble as soon as I saw she was wearing a name badge.

She used the same ice breaker that everyone else uses when they want to talk to us; she asked us where we were from and where we were going. She said she had seen us riding into town. When we told her that we were going across the country she said she was doing the same thing, in fact she was going all the way to a conference Salt Lake City.

She asked us what sort of nutritional supplement we use to help us ride. “We stop for ice cream.” I said. She either didn’t think that was funny or she was nervous because she went right on with her sales pitch. What I should have done is tell her what I had for breakfast that morning at the Chatterbox Café in Audubon:

3 scrambled eggs
4 slices of bacon
2 pieces of toast with jelly
A pile of hashed browns
A “short” stack of pancakes that the waitress warned me were the size of hub caps

I didn’t have room or need for any supplements after eating all of that. But Elizabeth continued telling us that athletes around the world are flocking to their supplements, including the Canadian and U.S. speed skating teams. She also said that it was a great business opportunity for us because we could tell people about it along our ride, then collect a commission each time somebody bought something. Her partner, who by this time had come over to back up Elizabeth, said “It’s the business strategy of the 21st century”.

Hoping to get a free sample, I asked if they had some sort of sports drink. Elizabeth said yes and ran out to her minivan, which was covered with stickers advertising their miracle health supplements, and came back with a couple pamphlets but no free sample. They said they only had enough for themselves on their trip. I guess it does take a lot of energy to drive a minivan down I-80 all the way to Salt Lake, so I can forgive them for not having a sample for me, but how do they ever expect to make a sale if potential customers can’t sample the product?

In all honesty, I find the whole thing a little offensive. We have ridden our bike over three thousand miles and a couple of pudgy retirees from Canada tell us that we need some sort of supplement to give us energy and heal our bodies. Lewis and Clark made it across the continent without supplements, so did Dominguez and Escalante, and the Mormons, the Forty-niners, and Simon Fraser. The pony express riders made the trip in about ten days. None of them even had paved roads to travel on.

And finally, why is the conference in Salt Lake City? What is it with Utah and multi level marketing? There is a new miracle health tonic that creates a stir there every few years: Nu Skin, Melaleuca, Tahitian Noni Juice, Usana. I asked my father-in-law about that once and he said it’s because so many Mormons are in need of extra cash and because the Latter-day Saint Church is set up such that there is a lot of networking. I hope he’s right, because I always thought it was because there were so many suckers among us.

I too have a program that will restore your energy and heal your body. It’s called exercise. I just need to design a multi-level business plan and I can make millions. Will you invite me into your home so I can tell you more about it?

Original Comments: Pyramid scams

 

Chad,

Would you come to my home and tell me about your exercise plan? How about next week? Hah.
Doc

Posted by Doc at September 13, 2004 03:42 PM

 

Hi Chad and Margaret,

I laughed all the way through this impassioned narration of the supplement encounter because it is so typical in today's "take control of your own health" culture. You know though, the Chinese have been at this game for nearly 5,000 years. I can't count the number of times in China that Chinese have said to me as I was eating particular part of a cow's intestine that it would be good for some part of my body. But maybe there is some truth to it. I know during my 30 months in Samoa as a 20-21 year old that those missionaries, Palagi and Samoan alike, who took the "missionary vitamins" every day did not get boils and those who did not, especially when they were living on breadfruit, got boils (I never had one in the whole time). Then there is one doctor who told me all supplements do is produce expensive urin. Hey, its easy to really get into this topic. Thanks for the laughs. Carl


Posted by Carl Harris at September 14, 2004 07:05 AM

 

 

Just currious, what do you weigh Chad?

Posted by Funk at September 14, 2004 11:01 AM

 

 

Funk, I think I weigh about twelve and a half stones.

Posted by Chad at September 15, 2004 01:25 PM

Straight roads

Originally Posted September 11, 2004 by Chad

SIOUX CITY, IOWA. When we rode down out of the Black Hills into Rapid City last week a chapter of our journey came to an end. That was the last of the mountains we will see for over a thousand miles. I know that the rest of South Dakota is not really flat, and Iowa has its Loess Hills, but there will be no more mountain passes to test our mettle on the way up and our nerves on the way down. Up till now, our route has been dictated by rivers and mountains. We’ve followed the Skagit, Methow, Pend Orielle, Columbia, Clark’s Fork, Yellowstone, Snake, Salt, and Bear rivers. We’ve ridden in the drainage basins of the Columbia, Saskatchewan, Colorado and Mississippi rivers, draining water to the four corners of our continent. We’ve also ridden in the Great Basin, which drains to nowhere. The passes separating these basins were milestones because they are boundaries of climate, geography and lifestyle. They were a challenge to climb that was always rewarded with an exhilarating descent on the other side.

Now we have come to the part of the country where the roads do not follow the rivers. They run straight instead. East and West, North and South. In the west man has adapted to suit the land, but here the land has been adapted to suit man. In the west settlements were islands in a sea of wilderness, here it is the natural areas that are the islands in a ocean of cultivated fields.

We hoped to make our way across these plains quickly and with as little effort as possible by riding the prevailing west winds. However the prevailing winds have not prevailed thus far. We have learned that here the wind assumes the role of the mountains in slowing our progress. It has been blowing hard from the south all week. My shoulders ache every night from fighting against it day in and day out. We are hoping and praying for a change.

Yesterday we pedaled our three thousandth mile just outside of Niobrara, Nebraska. I bought Mags a cake as a reward. Today we continue east from Sioux CIty over the Loess Hills and into America's corn land, I mean heartland.

Original Comments: Straight roads

Dear Chad,

One thing I've appreciated about our entries has been the vocabulary and related geographical, geological, and sociological details that you've troubled yourself to insert. To me it implies your grasp and interest in the big picture of the land the those who inhabit it including the "wild" inhabitants. This entry was particularly fascinating on this point. Probably bikers have a feel like no other group that has crossed the land because you've gone slow enough to notice the small variations but fast enough that you recognize patterns. While I've understood a prime reason for this trip was to free yourselves from the rigors of formal schooling the trip seems in many ways to be continuation of your scholarship but in some ways much deeper.

I feel for your struggle against the wind. Just recently I was riding my bike back to Big Pole from down town Heber and was dealing with a strong wind in my face and side. It really was hampering my progress. Out of the blue here comes Melanie in her car and I take a ride. Had she not come I was contemplating getting off the bike and walking. Makes me think of the task faced by the early handcart pioneers that faced into the prevailing winds you were hoping for as they waded through sand and brush and snow pulling rickety carts loaded with several hundred pounds of food and shelter.

We do also pray for the wind at your backs and all other good things.
 
Love, Carl

Posted by Carl Harris at September 13, 2004 05:43 AM