Big
Ride Updates...
28. Tyler to New Ulm, MN 7/15 Miles 88.8 Total 1882.4
If you would like to send a contribution to the American Lung Association for the Big Ride, mail your check to: The Big Ride
American Lung Association
550 Forest Ave. Suite 102
Portland, ME 04101
and don't forget to put my name and rider number on the check. Thanks. And for those of you who have made a contribution, "thank you" for your support for the Lung Association. The total for this ride is over two million dollars and growing.
We were in corn country today. Yesterday was a transition from wheat fields to corn rows, but today it was almost all corn and soybeans. And where there is corn, there are cattle and pigs and feed lots and new aromas and not all of them are pleasant. Some fields had been recently "enriched" and in the sun and heat were very fragrant.
The
land is very flat. The rise and fall of the black earth and green fields
was just enough to keep the "ocean" analogy alive. "Islands" of trees
floated on the green ocean, each one enclosing a farmhouse, barn, outbuildings
and a parking lot of farm machinery. The trees are protection from the
sun and from the wind, and perhaps, from the vastness of the plain. Towns
are bigger islands, still demarcated in the darker, taller green of pines,
cedars and maples, but also characterized by concrete and metal grain
elevators that are visible for miles and cast long shadows in the morning
light.
Small lakes filled the troughs of some of the waves of land and I was surprised to find white pelicans skimming across the surface of two of the larger ones adding to the ocean sensation.
For
the last two days, the ribbon we rode on was the Laura Ingals Wilder Memorial
Highway. DeSmet SD was the town in which the Ingals had a store and Laura's
childhood home, Walnut Grove is just east of Tyler. We missed the "Little
House on the Prairie Festival" by a week, but we didn't miss the local
auction. I wish you could have heard the "song" the auctioneer sang over
shovels, lumber, pails of paint and cans of oil, although not everyone
present seemed as excited about the singing as I was
29. New Ulm, MN 7/16
Today
is a rest day and I followed instructions. Our "big" activity was finding
a place to stay cool. The hot fudge sundae was great.
30. New Ulm to Owatonna, MN 7/17 Miles 70.7 Total 1953.1
Last night there was an excitement in camp that was almost electric. Everyone seemed quite excited. Spirits were high. We were rested, a day off gave us all extra sleep time and helped regenerate our weary spirits. The weather was cooperating: the early morning thunderstorm left us with lower temperatures, lower humidity and the promise of a tailwind. We were facing a "short" day, only 70 miles. Most of all, in the fading light of the day, a number of riders discovered the giant map of the United States painted on the school playground. Riders paced off the distance from Puget Sound to Minnesota and then across the rest of the country with big smiles (we really are more than half way) and shakes of the head (look at how far we have come) and more big smiles (we are going to make it all the way). Conversations around the camp have been centered on this last fact; we will be able to complete this Big Ride. It is spoken with elements of awe, with an element of disbelief and with an honest self-congratulatory tone that is not surprising.
The
excitement was still there this morning pedaling east on US Route14. The
light was bright in our eyes, the air was cool, humidity was low and the
wind was at our backs. It was a perfect morning for a ride. We sped across
the green cornfield sea spotted with farmhouse islands. Sun glinted off
water towers and grain elevators.
I did not go see the world's largest ball of twine; it's 40 feet in diameter, but it's also a mile off the route and I wasn't that interested in twine. A hundred yards off the route might have been too much. The same for the Jolly Green Giant statue south of our route. Now the "Spam" Museum would have been different. It's only 35 miles away, but we couldn't get a car to take us to that monument to American culture.
Today
was an "alpha" day. Three of us, Marjulein, Charlie and I, rode in jerseys
proclaiming "Team Alpha" with secondary proclamations about organ and
tissue donation, the American Lung Association and Bayer. A small fraction
of the population is born with a protein deficiency; a protein designated
as "alpha-1 antitrypsin". The deficiency may cause emphysema at an early
age. A treatment is available but is difficult, provides only partial
protection against emphysema and is very expensive. People with this condition
have banded together by phone, letter, fax, internet, regional and national
meetings to provide each other with support, information and companionship.
They call each other "alphas" and through their National Association and
Foundation, they have presented their concerns and advanced their cause.
It was our privilege to ride for these "alphas" today spreading the word
about this rare problem. Charlie has a good friend who has the condition,
Marjulein and I each treat patients with the problem. So, our ride today
was for our alpha friends and patients. For Ann Marie, Bill, Linda, Richard,
Darcy, Robert, Gerald, Suzanne, and Larry, this day was for you.
31. Owatonna to Winona, MN 7/18 Miles 89.4 Total 2042.5
I
woke up in the middle of the night and pulled the sleeping bag liner around
me tighter. An hour later, I was awake again, still cold. This time I
climbed into the sleeping bag that I had not used since the mountains.
Another, and colder front had replaced yesterday's cool air with cold.
The morning sky was overcast. The rising sun peaked through cloud layers
in thin radiant shafts of light and colored the horizontal layers of clouds
rose, blue, yellow and purple. The wind greeted us from the east with
a steady thin "roar" in the ears as if we were racing over the highway
instead of pumping hard to maintain our eastward progress. 
(Note
the direction of the rider and the smoke from this corn alcohol plant)
We rode in hopes of warmer temperatures and slower, or better yet, shifting
winds. Neither happened. We pedaled through Rochester and the complex
of the medical Mecca Mayo. I did not stop. Rochester also boasts the worlds
largest ear of corn. I kept on pedaling. Odometers clicked 2000 miles
on the trip riding past the same corn field and soybean richness that
has been our company for some days. 
Then, at 70 miles on today's ride, we headed down, the land suddenly rent
by deep fissures. Deeper into the cut, rock outcrops protruded from the
wooded slopes until we reached a flat valley lush with rich farm land
and pastures. Our valley joined a larger one and on the far side of the
valley the wall of rock and trees rose several hundred feet in a dark
wall under the still purplish sky. The creative force, the Mississippi
River remained hidden. Within a few miles we were able to glimpse the
river, barges tied up to docks, and steel bridges arching over the slow
moving dark water, Winona on this side and Wisconsin on the other.
Judy Williams has been following the Big Ride from her new practice site in Yeman on the southern tip of the Arabian Peninsula. She recently wrote, "As much as I struggled with this topic while working in the States, I struggle with it much more now. There are so many people here that I can't do anything in the medical field to help, but as an essay I read said "One of the essential qualities of the clinician is interest in humanity, for the secret of the care of the patient is in caring for the patient." Given the volume that we see here, that is very hard for me to do sometimes. But, I think it is the part of medicine that I love the most."
What
could make an old teacher more happy? I love it also. That special connection
between doctor and patient is magical when it's right whether everything
comes out "OK" or not. The caring is important in itself regardless of
the outcome. But there is a trap, isn't there? There are more needs for
"caring" than there are hours in your day and so you must find a place
to stop. There has to be a point when you can go home, when you can retreat,
when you can stop giving, when you can say "no". There must be other options
for those you cannot reach today. It's a struggle to find that moment,
that point where your "caring" must stop. I wish you strength and endurance
in the struggle Judy.
--- Paul Fairman, Big Rider #2152.
< pfairman@earthlink.net>