Blog Action Day - Poverty

Blog action day is organized to get thousands of bloggers weighing in on a single topic. This year the topic is poverty. I know we've all been touched by infomercials or missionary presentations showing underprivileged and hungry children in some third world country. Often these presentations subtly lay on guilt to get us to open our wallets and give to whatever cause is being advertised.

Sometimes we find out later that a good portion of our money went to administrative costs. And in some nations the thugs in power often seize donations for their own use. The risk for me is that I can be cynical and grow hard hearted about the real problems of the poor in the world.

I've heard some say that what is truly needed is the spread of freedom in the world. Dictatorships and socialsist countries exploit their populations and care little for their people. While this is true, there aren't many practical ways we as individuals can change the politics of a third world country. But I think we can be involved to make a difference person to person.

There are organizations who are doing practical things such as digging wells. Our church sponsored 2 wells this year. There are also small missionary organizations doing what they can to give aid directly to the poor around the world. And I came across an organization that works to spred entrepeneuership around the world. Individual donors can make micro loans to people around the world who want to start or expand their own home business. The organization is Kiva. I've not done a thorough investigation of the organization, but I have to say that I like the concept. To me this seems to be a way individuals can work to give people a hand-up rather than a handout.

As an additional note, I'd like to see church groups develop some program like this. Think of what it could mean for local churches in these countries if they were the source for small loans to help people become self-sufficient.

Good Wine, Bad Wine and Laguna Beach

Rob & Elan went with us to the Mastermind Conference this year. We were challenged, entertained, and inspired. Each of us left with ideas and plans we want to impliment when we get home. Even our entertainment was inspiring. I'm not a fan of opera, but I could listen to Paul Potts sing it because his love for it comes through when he sings. Another inspirational performer was Patrick Hughes. He's blind from birth and in a wheelchair, but he plays piano and trumpet. He has ambitions to be an ambassador to a Spanish speaking country.

The day after the conference we headed out to the wine country of Temecula valley. The first 2 wineries had good wines, and we sat outside and had cheese and crackers with a bottle of white wine. Someone at the second winery gave Rob a discount card for a tasting at a new winery a few miles away. We had just enough time to get there before they closed. Their wines were amazingly bad. We were given 6 tastes for $10, and we had a 2 for 1 special because of the "generosity" of the man at the other winery. Rob and I kept tasting in the vain hope that the next wine might have some redeeming qualities. But their best wines only rose to the level of "not as bad as all the others". The Merlot tasted as if it had been infused with extract of oak wood. Brenda and Rob said they had the bad taste of the wine still on their tongues the next morning.

We drove up to Laguna Beach on both Thursday and Friday. Laguna Beach is town of artists and galleries. The Sawdust Art Festival is on the edge of town. It featured art of various media--painting, pottery, glass, metal--as well as live music. We bought a Raku ceramic pot. We then went down the street to another art festival. This one had an elitist feel and the works were much pricier. We noticed that much of the art also leaned to the bizarre and weird. We couldn't see ever wanting to hang some of these "far out" pieces on our walls. The following day we went to the only public winery in Orange County. The wines were good, but there was no place to sit and savor a bottle. We spent the afternoon exploring the galleries and shops. We had dinner at a place called The Beach House. We ate on the open-air deck 50 yards from the ocean. The breeze was cold, but the view was amazing.

The combination of good food, good wine, and walking in the surf is a sure way to restore your soul. It will be hard to wait a full year before going back.

Almost First Century

We were all flirting with heat exhaustion. At the 50 mile mark I had made the turn that led to the loop for the 100 mile ride instead of the "safe" 70 mile route that almost everyone else chose. Now my odometer said 85 miles and I estimated I had only 2" of water in my last bottle. The heat index was at least 105, and the two young men who had recently passed me pulled over to sit in the shade of a tree. I pulled up and asked them if they had any idea where the SAG stop was at. They said that they too thought we should have seen it by now. I rode on, hoping it wasn't too much farther. Another 1/2 mile and I saw it. The workers yelled out "thirteen" as I pulled in. That was the number of people still left behind me on the road.

I knew I had to spend some time and cool down, but I also knew time was running out. We had to be done by 4 pm. Of the handful of riders at the SAG, four of us were going for our century ride. And we'd picked one of the hottest days of the year to make the attempt. The next SAG was 10 miles, and it was the lunch stop. After that we had 8 miles to the finish. Several of us quietly confided that we'd been having chills out on the road: a warning that heat exhaustion was nipping at our heels. But so far we had kept it at bay by downing more water and sports drinks.

As I got ready to head out, Joe rode in and announce he was done for. A few miles down the rode, Vince pulled over and signaled a SAG wagon that he needed to be hauled in. I pushed on. The slight breeze was blowing about as fast as my uphill speed. The result was that when I expended the most energy I had absolutely no breeze. The hills and the heat took its toll. I made it to the final SAG. My odometer said 94 miles, but I new I was done. I knew I didn't have another 8 miles in me, even after a full meal. I was satisfied with my ride even though I didn't get a full century. My average speed was 14.5 overall--a record for me.

Today, the day after, I've been thinking about why I made the turn to go for the century even though I knew the risks and the toll the heat would take. I believe there is something in each of us that wants to push the envelope and see if we've got what it takes to be more and do better we ever have before. This drive leads some people to embrace extreme sports and other adrenaline-inducing activities. It breeds entrepreneurs and adventurers and probably some missionaries. Most people find less extreme ways to dare themselves, but I think we all have the need to occasionally get out on the road and see whether we've got what it takes to go where few others choose to go. Even though I didn't make my first century I'm content to have ridden to the edge of my physical limits. I'll be getting in shape for the next time.

Zucchini Pizza

This summer our dinner are improvised at the level of the TV show "Who's Line is it Anyway". Sunday dinner is a good example. Brenda had set out chicken breasts for us to grill. But after getting home from the Royals game and having had popcorn and an after-game sundae (thanks to a Royals score in the 7th) we weren't all that hungry. We put the chicken back in the fridge for another time. I got out my garage-sale bread machine and got it started on making pizza dough. When Brenda came back in the house she asked, "But what are you going to put on it?". I said, "How about if I grill some onions and peppers and cut up some zucchini?" She didn't think that squash on pizza sounded very good. I thought it was a creative way to use up some of the abundance of zucchini from our garden.

I was starting to think about "Plan B" and how I could avoid making a trip to the store. After a few minutes Brenda announced that she had searched online and found a recipe for zucchini on a pizza. Being the typical male I didn't look at the recipe but proceeded with my improvisation. The rules are simple: use only what's in the fridge, pantry, or growing out in the garden. The result was a surprisingly good pizza. Here's what I did:

I followed the recipe for pizza dough that came with my bread maker, but I added a teaspoon of Italian seasoning.
I cut up green peppers and onions and cooked them until the onions carmelized.
I slice zucchini and fried it in butter until they were browned. I ground pepper on the slices as they cooked.
I spread out the dough and drizzled on olive oil. I then put on creamed cheese and sort of spread it out on the dough.
I placed the onions and peppers around the pizza and laid on the zucchini like pepperoni.
The cheese I had available was the Mexican 4-cheese blend, so I put on a good layer of that.
I then went to our herb garden and got some fresh parsley and basil. I put on a little parsley and then laid on the basil leaves to almost cover the pizza.
I baked it at 425 degrees for 20 minutes.

The result was surprisingly good. We could only eat 2 pieces. We've got leftovers for tonight.

Thoughts from 2008 Tour de France

I started following the Tour de France in 2004 when Lance Armstrong won his 6th tour in a row. It seems like such a simple thing. A bunch of bike riders see who can have the fasted overall time. The best man wins. But it is much more complex than that. I'm still learning the language and the strategy of the race. The winners of the race and the winners of each daily stage get the glory and attention. But they never get to that place by themselves. They can only reach the podium of victory through help from both their team members and their competitors.

Two days I've watched a lone rider break away from the pack within 10 miles of the finish line. He rides strong and fast and develops a commanding lead. He seems to be in position to win the stage for that day. Both times the lone rider was overtaken by riders working in a group. The instance that made the most impression on me was seeing the lone rider be eclipsed by a group of 3 competitors working together. The lone rider had to fight the wind on his own. The 3 competitors took turns in front to break the wind. The cooperated even as they competed to win the day, and they were able to go faster working together than any of them could have on their own. When they got to within 500 meters of the finish they then sprinted to the finish, and may the best man win. The lone rider finished far behind them.


The winning rider also relies on his team for support. The term used to describe the team's role is domestique, meaning "servant". They drop back to the team car and get water and food for the leader. The cars can't drive up through the pack of riders to get to the leaders so the domestiques ride up and back. The domestiques also work to break the wind and provide a "draft" for the leader. Sometimes they sacrifice themselves by breaking away from the pack and forcing other teams to expend energy to chase them. The role of leader and domestique can switch sometimes. For example, in 2005 Lance Armstrong served as a domestique for George Hincapie in some of the classic one day bike races, because they were more important to Hincapie and less important to Armstrong.

No matter who we are or what we accomplish, we should never forget that we didn't get here on our own. There have been "domestiques" all along the way who gave of themselves to make our way easier. On the other hand, we need the grace to stay quietly in the background and rejoice when those we have served get their moment to shine. It's more difficult to acknowledge the role of our opponents and critics in our success. As the writer of Hebrews says, no discipline or hardship is pleasant at the time, but both our character and our success are forged in adversity and struggle. Not many can be world-class bike racers, but all of us can learn from them. May we all have our times to stand on the winner's podium.

On a Plateau

Competitive athletes peak. Amateurs plateau. I've never peaked, but I've plateaued many times. A plateau in geology is an elevated, level piece of ground. You have to exert some effort to get there, but once you do, it's flat and easy going. A performance plateau is much the same. You expend the effort to get in shape, lose weight, eat healthy, etcetera, but after some success your subconscious tells you that you're "good enough" and you plateau. You never know how big the plateau is or how long you can stay at that level. But usually you end up going down the other side and wind up about where you started.

Sometimes accomplishing a goal can cause a plateau. I did that years ago when I set a goal to get in shape and run a marathon. I accomplished my goal and stepped onto a plateau. I kept running for several more years, but I gradually did it less and less. The plateau ended and I went back to my old, out-of-shape self.

As I said goodbye to folks I'd met on the 2008 BAK, I asked if I'd see them again next year. Many of them answered "yes". After a few days of rest, I got back on my bike and set in my mind that I'm getting myself ready for next year. I'm not taking any chances on seeing a plateau here. I'm setting a goal to participate in several other bike events as well.

Now, I just need to apply this to all the rest of my life. Hmm.

Saturday - Horton to the Missouri River

The consensus in our group was that the accommodations for the tenters were primitive enough that we were truly camping. Tent city was set up in a low-lying area below the public swimming pool. We were to use the pool's showers and toilet. (No plural for the toilet--there was only one.) After a shower and a short dip in the pool I decided I'd walk the 4 blocks to the school rather than use these facilities again. I heard reports that the toilet plugged up sometime before morning.
Horton was our lunch stop for the BAK last year. I visited a store I found last year called "The Electric City Emporium". They have an assortment of odds and ends, from tools to party supplies. I found a figurine of a turtle playing an accordion. It's perfect for a "white elephant" gift.
I met up with some of the group I met last year. They were on their way to dinner & I went with them. We found a hole in the wall cafe. It was called "The Hole in the Wall". The food was pretty good. I took a risk and ordered steak. You never know how talented the cook is. Can he cook your steak the way you ordered it? It wasn't overdone, so I was pleased. "Medium rare" usually gives the cook a wide enough target to hit.
Back at tent city the night was noisy. A band played a few blocks away, making it hard to get to sleep. At 10:30 I heard the singer say they were going to take a short break. I thought, "I've got about 15 minutes to get to sleep before they start up again." But someone must have given them the word to turn the volume down. They were much quieter in their second set.
At 4 a.m. I woke up to an owl hooting. It was a pleasant way to be awakened. I hiked to the school to shave. I found that there are no lines for the toilets and sinks at 4 a.m. When I got back to my tent I decided to sleep a little longer. We only had 28 miles to the Missouri river. I didn't need to get an early start. Suddenly a dog chorus let loose a howl like I've never heard before. It sounded like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, that is if the choir were made up of dogs. I was glad it only lasted a minute or so.
BAK provided breakfast for us: Chris Cakes. They bill themselves as "pancakes with attitude". They specialize in tossing pancakes. When I went back for seconds I merely held my plate and the woman tossed 3 pancakes from 8' away and hit my plate perfectly with each one.
The Missouri river was a flood stage so the city of Atchison said we shouldn't go to the river and dip our tires in the water. Most of the riders did it anyway. I'm sure they were worried about liability issues if someone happened to fall in. The water did look treacherous, so we were careful.
A lot of people talk to me as if they think biking across Kansas is a long, slow trip. But when I get to the end, the week went fast. I'm glad to be home, but part of me feels as if it was over too quickly. Even traveling at under 15 mph I find that there are a lot of sights I miss. As I say goodbye to folks I'm sure I'll see a lot of them next year. There will be a new roads to travel, new sights to see, and new people to meet.