Halfway Home

Today we crossed the halfway point: 2,069 miles. The most incredible part about this where we were just over a month ago - fresh and awkward - and comparing that to where we are today. Imagining where we'll be when we hit the Pacific baffles me. I'm excited to witness it.

The halfway point seems like a fine time to do some self-evaluation. Let's start with the bad.

My communication with a few riders is poor. They're quick to assume I'm not listening, and I'm quick to get impatient. I have a tendency to dismiss questions before they're asked, only to realize later that they were valid and useful. This has alienated a few riders.

I've been too lax with some rules, and too stringent with others. I've swerved toward unfair and uneven in my enforcement. I've been indecisive, and tried to correct it through quick and hasty decisions. I've been afraid of confrontation. I've been worried about looking good and being popular among riders.

Yikes. It's not that bad, though. I think I've been a very good leader. Most importantly, everyone is still here, still healthy, and riding safely.

We've had no major issues with our group dynamics, and are performing well on the road and on build sites. We interact with hosts well and leave facilities cleaner than the way we found them.

A new skill with which I've surprised myself is a short memory for annoyance. I've been pretty good at letting the little things go and starting with a clean slate. There's still room for improvement there, as that slate tends to get more quickly dirty with a select few, but I hope they know I'm working on it.

I'm glad that I took a few minutes to do this. It wasn't easy. Yet, it's already helped my development as a leader tremendously. Now to act on areas where I've fallen short. We'll see how this matches up with the rider's evaluations of me, due tonight.

The Group

If you're reading this, you probably know me. If you don't, I'm flattered and a little creeped out. Welcome to my summer.

You almost certainly don't know anything about the rest of this group. We're pretty awesome. Of course, an adventure like this would draw a pretty interesting group of young people, but I am continually astonished by our talents, humor and foibles.

We're a group of thirty-one people between the ages of eighteen and twenty-seven. We're nineteen women and twelve men. We're mostly white and from the east coast, but we do represent nineteen states (or twenty-one on some days), including California, Texas, Minnesota, and Colorado.

We include a former member of indie rock sensation Passion Pit, three collegiate athletes, five architects, two engineers, three designers, and a world champion jump roper. We've got personality coming out of our ears. We're productive, motivated and inspired by this trip and the cause. We're also impatient, annoying, and irresponsible.

The good far, far outweighs the bad. We're at the halfway point in this trip, and I get pretty sad thinking about the day that I'm going to wake up and not be able to "shark" someone, or play pitch with Joel, Paul and Megan, or talk music with Thom, or sing silly songs on the bike.

Huge in the Midwest

As I rolled into our host this afternoon, another rider was talking to a reporter from a local newspaper. I quickly swooped in to steal the spotlight.

She asked a question and I launched into my usual schpeal. "Our nine build days are great, but the real power of the program isn't the hammers we swing or nails we pound, but the people we talk to and the projects that these 31 young people take over the course of their lifetime."

Another important thing, of course, is the media attention we receive. It brings awareness to the cause and supports the program. Here's an example of a pretty good article on our route. Oh, and I'm quoted. I'm huge in the Midwest

Things I'm (Not) Missing

Things I'm Missing
People at home
Live music
Sheets
Harriet
Baseball
Softball (Rooaar!)
Non-American food

Things I'm Not Missing
Desks
Commuting
American food (no disrespect, big ups fried chicken)

Good Government

In conversation with the Effingham, Illinois Habitat for Humanity construction supervisor last night, I learned of a cool use of state prisoners' time. Taylorsville inmates build the inner structure of Habitat for Humanity homes in the prison's woodshop, then send it in numbered pieces to be assembled. It takes just two hours to get it together on the work site.

Please, Illinois, don't cut funding to this part of the prison system. Let those who have harmed the community pay their restitution in labor. A family now has an affordable roof over their head, and inmates have begun learning skills that will help them in rehabilitation and reentry to society. This is a great example of good policy.

Walrus Gumboot

We're coming together in many ways. The slow people are getting faster and the fast people are taking their time. We're taking walks after dinner and piling in the van to check out local oddities. Today we went to the second (controversially) tallest freestanding cross in the country. The highway off ramp sign reads "THE CROSS: Truckers Welcome!" Jesus would welcome truckers.

It was a beautiful morning. Everyone was at the 30 mile mark by 8am today. Oh, we crossed into U.S. Central time, which helped.

I'm really proud that people are getting along well, and happy in my role. It's been a rollercoaster for me, but I'm making steady progress.

Tomorrow we ride another 90 to Springfield, IL and will be there for a build day Thursday. I'm excited to check out the Lincoln Museum. We've now seen the birthplace of Lincoln (Kentucky), Lincoln's boyhood home (Indiana) and the Land of Lincoln (Illinois) in a week. Lots of competition for the Lincoln tourist dollar? He was a great president and all, but you don't see several states vying for the favors of Jefferson or Adams tourists. Abe must feel like the prettiest girl at the dance.

Corn

Corn and more corn. Not complaining.