it's my birthday and i'll bike if i want to

Today, we crossed several "things," if you will. First, I crossed over into the world of the nineteen year olds (that sounds thrilling). Shortly after, we crossed a time zone taking us out of central time and into mountain time. And a few yards after that, we crossed the state line bordering Texas and New Mexico to enter the Land of Enchantment.

Even before hopping on Alfalfa (my bike, affectionately named for the tufts of hair that stick up out of my helmet), the day was off to a very interesting start. We had just spent the night at a beautifully renovated church in Dalhart, TX, and because my friend Sara and I were assigned sweep (last two riders) for the day, we stuck around for an hour to give the group a head start. Over by a set of bookshelves, Sara and I got into a discussion about religious fundamentalists, inspired by a book that denounced gay marriage. Not long after, pastor John came over and asked if he could join the conversation. I admit, I was slightly nervous for a moment that he had been eavesdropping and was about to teach us a lesson or two. But to our astonishment, the first words out of PASTOR John's mouth were, "I hate religion. I am probably the most anti-religious person you will ever meet." Stunned, I urged him to continue, and listened as he talked about hating tradition, corruption, and irrational religious dogma and practices; his belief that there should be no middle man between us and God; and how his sole purpose in being a pastor is to help his congregation establish a relationship with God, and to teach his congregants to be ministers to each other. What an intersting guy.

Around 8:30, Sarah and I left the small town of Dalhart and headed north (?) along US54 for 71 windy miles, approximately 8 of which were lined with stinky cows. We estimate that there were close to one million moo-ers. One of the things we do on the trip is to chalk turns on the road so that people don't miss them, or chalk messages as to what mile lunch is at, or words of encouragement in the middle of a hill. Some days, when the cue sheet is particularly lengthy or confusing, there's a lot of chalk on the road. And other days, when we're on the same road for, uh, ever, there's almost none. Today was an exception, because there must have been a birthday message for me every 3 miles. One rider went so far as to draw my face (mohawk and all) in the center of the road. To say the least, the chalk made my day.

I would just like to give a shout out to my mom for being amazing. Best cake (and everything else) ever. You rock.

Hopefully I will post some pictures, soon.
Hasta luego,
e.