**FINISH LINE PARTY**

5632 Edgewater Blvd. Mpls.

July 17th Afternoon

This is maybe my longest day of the tour. After the interview in Red Wing with Roger, I headed to Jackson Minnesota, another 3 hours away. I waited for a few minutes at Rogers to check the weather, because it had started to storm outside. I realized it wasn’t going to clear up anytime soon, so I meandered into the garage and put on rain pants, rain jacket, different gloves and covered my pack on the back of the bike with a rain cover. I sat on the bike fully rain protected, except my feet. But I have another pair of shoes and planned to switch them out once the rain stopped. I tapped the kickstand up and rolled backwards out of the garage. The sound of water drops began to surround me, echoing in my ears under the helmet. I pulled onto highway 61 towards 19. Lightning lit up the grey skies. I was straining to see through the wet windshield and my wet visor on the helmet. I could only comfortably go 50 mph. I pushed on. I could feel the option of going home because I was close enough to Minneapolis and sever thunderstorms where coming through. I decided to slowly keep heading forward.

The rain eventually cleared up. I chased to sunlight to the West, until finally I was no longer under rain clouds. I pulled into a town and looked for a café. I changed out of my rain gear, had some lunch and coffee and decided to head south.

I drove through back roads, corn and soybean fields all the time watching the sky hoping the rain would hold. Going South I knew I was possibly heading into the thunderstorm again. Eventually I caught up with Interstate 90. I had two hours before I had to be in Jackson. Enough time to find a parallel back road to take along 90, rather than get on the four-lane 75mph highway. I looked at the map and found a road. I gassed up and headed toward it.

I turned onto the road running along the highway. The sun was bright now and the road was smooth curving and beautiful. I few miles down the road, a sign “Pavement Ends” arrived in front of me. Well… I figured, I got time; I can go slowly for a mile or two on gravel. I slowed down and crossed the line from tar to gravel. I saw more and more gravel and no crossing roads. I could only go about 10-15 mph without losing control of the bike. I could see highway 90 to my left. At the next crossing road I turned left to hook up to 90 and give up the side roads for now. There was no on ramp. At the next right, I took it, hoping that in a couple miles I may get a chance to hook up with 90 again. This road was very wet sand and my back wheel kept slipping around under me. I was only able to go about 7mph. The road turned and grooves in the sand kept grabbing my wheels. I could feel my bike want to slip onto its side in the middle of a sandy road between soybean fields. My spine was straight and with every slip of the wheel my hand would grip the handle bar and my abs, back and arm muscles would quickly compensate for the redirected momentum. I could almost feel the moments my adrenal glands would release that magic chemical that makes the human body ultra aware.

There was no end to the road in sight. I was remembering Roger’s interview. He had talked about accepting what is and not having fear about what you cannot control. I decided to try this idea out. I breathed and accepted the moment. I began to enjoy my time, even as I was sure I would lose control of the bike. I passed a heard of grazing cattle as I was slowly struggling up a sandy hill. I wanted to stop for a picture, but there was no way I could get my bike moving again on this hill. Inching forward at 4 mph, I climbed the hill. At the top I stopped my bike in the tall grass on the side, the only place that would hold my bike. I got my camera and walked back down the hill for a photo with the bulls. I was sure I was on some private farmer’s road.

After taking some photos and realized I had now spent 45 minutes traveling about 6 miles, I was only focused on staying upright until I could find pavement again. A couple miles later I did reach tar. I found my way on to Interstate 90 and headed towards Jackson hoping to make my dinner plans for 6pm with Harold and Jan Handevidt.

July 17th AM

I loaded up my bike to head down to Red Wing this morning. I was scheduled to interview Roger Smith, a retired Crane Operator. It was hot and muggy. It was difficult for me to keep my leather jacket on because I could feel my skin sticking to the fabric that lined the coat. The sky was grey with scattered breaks in the clouds, which allowed the sun to shine through every now and than.

I had to back track for a few turns, but eventually I parked my bike in the driveway of Roger’s home. I knocked, and Roger’s wife, Joyce answered the door. I waited a little while for Roger to come home. While waiting, Joyce told me that it was the one-year anniversary of their son’s death. I felt my stomach turn and wondered why I was in their home to do an interview about fear on such a day. I was anxious and unsure about how such an arrangement had occurred. I decided to trust the circumstances. Roger arrived.

We met and sat down at the kitchen table. Joyce was wandering around the house getting ready for the morning while Roger and I talked. I set up the microphone and began the interview. Roger was ready, seemed completely engaging and open. I began with the same question I ask everyone… “So when you heard about this project and the question I am traveling around the state of Minnesota to ask everyone about a time in your life when you’ve faced fear and changed your life, what particular story comes to mind for you?” Roger looked at me and from across the kitchen table said, “None. I’ve never been afraid.”

Inside I wondered how does someone agree to an interview, know the question, tell you he has lots to talk about, make arrangements for you to travel to his home and then tell you he has nothing to say. I thought for a moment. I tried to rearrange the question, thinking maybe I am asking it wrong. For an hour I asked Roger how it is possible that he has never felt fear. I asked had he ever needed to have courage… “No” he answered. I went round and round with questions. Some moments I thought I was chatting with Buddha, other moments I was sure he was not saying something. I struggled back and forth with myself to allow him to define his own answers. I had to believe him. Joyce periodically came into the kitchen, would write something down on a pad of paper, hand it to him and he would read it. Than he would look at her and say that that didn’t really scare him. By the end of the interview I was a little confused, but impressed with the mental capacity to be so removed from attachment to the changes in the world around you, that he didn’t feel fear. In some ways, this is the ideal, right? What Buddhism is all about? Not being attached to life’s changes.

Roger took me downstairs to show me his photos and awards from his days as a Crane Operator building sky scrappers in downtown Minneapolis. He showed me photos of men standing in the mid air on the end of beams, 38 stories high, with nothing attaching them to the building. I listened as he told stories of precision and trust he had to have with the other men on his job. I was taking in fully the experience of being at Roger’s home. I was impressed and confused. I had no idea yet what this experience was teaching me about fear.

July 16th PM

I arrived in Coon Rapids later than I had thought I would. My cell phone had died and I had no time telling machine on me. I made it to Satin Stitch just before they closed to meet Brenda Brinkman, a seemstress by trade and my next interview. Brenda greeted me at the door and gave me a tour of her work place. I walked through the assembly line for dance costumes, bridal gowns, cheerleader outfits and musical performance costumes. The sparkle, spandex and wild colors covered the workshop. After a group photo, Brenda and I left for her place.

I sat down at Brenda’s dining room table. I flipped through her wedding photos taken less than one month before. I noticed the amazingly huge wedding cake. Brenda let me know that their wedding had been a sober wedding and that they had to have cake for everyone. We started the interview. Brenda discussed her journey as a meth addict, and felon. Brenda had my attention as she described addiction, theft and eventually Cancer. In and out of prison, Brenda brought me back to her point, her lessons, and her truth. Brenda is sober and legal today. Her point about fear was a message I had heard in the stories of others on this journey, that you help other people. Fear can expose you to love and some people walk away with a strong sense to help others after facing their fear.

Brenda doesn’t have her license and isn’t allowed to drive. She bikes or buses to work everyday. Even with the hassles, weather and distance, she says she feels free. She feels freedom with family, friendships and inside herself in a way that drugs never made her feel. I listened and could see the joy in Brenda’s expressions. I was wondering, does fear go away when we surrender to other people in our life and become open to consequences? I was thankful Brenda took the time to pass on her story to me.

July 16th AM

The sound of rain outside my window woke me up. It was storming outside. The air was heavy, moist and warm. I rustled things together slowly, and then shared a cup of coffee with my new friends. I was to leave by noon to make a 2pm interview in Coon Rapids. I was packed and ready to go, but the rain came down harder. I stayed in Brainerd a little while longer and left around 1:30 when the rain finally cleared up.

I pulled out of the driveway on the damp pavement. The air was fresh and calming to breath in. I was running late, but I had called ahead to let Brenda know. I traveled down Highway 25. I laughed inside my helmet as I passed a farm with Donkeys grazing outside. I passed cattle and Buffalo. The rolling hills, corn stretched out for miles and the clouds brushing against the sky reminded me to sit back in my seat and feel my feet on the floor boards. I was in the middle of my dream.

July 15th PM

After finishing up the interviews with Paul and Susan, we said good-bye and I got back on the road to head towards one more interview. Bruce is an 18-year-old participant in 4-H. I visited with him at his home a few miles south of Brainerd. He lives at his parents place, with a workshop, horses and lots of green space. We chatted at the dining room table.

Bruce is straightforward, kind and self-confident. I took in his story about watching a close call with his uncle when a fire started in their workshop. Weaving through the story Bruce jumped from one realization to the next, landing on the importance of caring about other people, giving of yourself to help others around you and the simple truth that love is worth risk and fear. After the interview we walked outside for the photo. Bruce will be on his way to the cities for a 4H competition. I am hoping I will be able to stop in to the State Fair Grounds while he’s there. I think he would enjoy the people, sounds and sights.


I drove back to Heidi and Adam’s home, reflecting on the stories I’ve heard since July 1st. Leaning from side to side as the road curves, I watch the farm fields, swamps, trees, birds and dead skunks go by. At dinner I talked about my own fears with this trip and the origins of the question I am asking folks. I am exhausted, fatigued and transforming.

July 15th AM

I woke up early to get my gear in order and headed out toward Baxter where I was to interview Paul and Susan Beulieu, a father and daughter. I joined them for breakfast and listened as Paul talked about settling into a new home with his wife. Susan discussed her work with 4H that focuses on Native American Youth. After we ate, Paul and I sat down in the backyard for an interview.

I fiddled with the mic while Paul began to talk. Paul carefully led me through his journey into fear after coming home from the Vietnam War. After returning, he mixed fear, booze and anger for years as he struggled to make sense of the world and himself. Hearing Paul speak and feeling his presence across the table from me, I felt the radiating message inside my body - people need to be honored. Paul talked about his need to be honored as a Vet within the Native Community. I felt Paul convey his struggle to make sense of his experiences at war, the United States Government's treatment of Native Americans and learning to let go and trust. I heard the battle to focus on love even while he knows that love doesn’t always exist. Admist this painful story, Paul’s occasional smile was infectious and this helped to keep me with him.


After Paul, I sat down with Susan. She had been thinking about this question for a while, and right away knew what she wanted to talk about. She got me to pause with her as she remembered facing the decision to leave her boyfriend, after having her daughter at 19. Inside Susan’s words was a vivid picture of choosing the life she has, the impact on family and the power of owning a decision. In that moment it seemed that the presence of fear, could be a signt that you are about to catalyze yourself towards happiness.

July 14th PM

I road on. I passed farms and cattle along rolling hills, headed toward Brainerd. Once there, I traveled down Highway 210 through Baxter and Brainerd. I went further east towards Hiedi Haugen and Adam Marcotte’s home. Tucked away down a twisting, smooth road, I found their home. I got a chance to unpack, sit back and read a book, while birds came to their bird feeders. Abruptly, the birds would disappear as Redtail Hawks would soar overhead. After dinner and conversation I headed to bed to be ready for interviews the next day.

July 14th AM

I rose out of bed and made my hotel room coffee and tore open the powder creamer to pour in my cup. Nothin’ like hotel room coffee☺ But, it does the job, or at least fulfills my hand to mouth habbit in the mornings. I relaxed and typed at my computer before heading out this morning. Eventually I checked out of the hotel and glided my bike in first gear out of the parking lot.

I few miles down the road, I stopped on the highway to catch a couple photos from the road of Don and Laurie’s gift shop. They hold pow-wows on their land and Don is excitedly getting ready to house the traveling Viet Nam Memorial Wall at their place while it is in Mahnomen. While crouching in the weeds taking photos, a bug relaxed on my speedometer.

I traveled to Brainerd today. Along the way I stopped for a while in Detroit Lakes. I watched the trains returning to the West today with empty cars. Yesterday they headed East with what I think was coal or ore, but I am not sure what it was. In Wadena, I abruptly stopped my bike to check out a pack of Alpaca’s in a ranchers yard. No one seemed to be home and I hope it was alright to check out the pets. I love these guys. I have never seen them in person before.

July 13th PM

I called Don and Laurie from the parking lot of the casino. They came in to town to meet up and do the interview. While I waited I sat on a leather couch in the casino lobby. I listened to the sounds of Hollywood movie themed slot machines and watched families with grandparents and young couples check in to the hotel. People slouched in the chairs in front of the slot machines staring at the flashing lights.

Don and Laurie walked in. We grabbed dinner together inside the casino. Everyone seemed to know who they were. They stopped to say hello to folks on our way to the resturant. We chatted about the work they both do with Sons and Daughters, a youth program for Native kids in White Earth to become exposed to traditional ways with the goal of getting them to stay out of trouble and off drugs. After dinner we found a quiet place to do the interviews.


Laurie was the first to be interviewed. I adjusted the audio levels and listened while she began to tell me her story about facing the fear of other cultures when she found herself at an all white, high class dinner party. Inside the pauses, the details, the memories I heard Laurie share with me the lessons of walking into other cultures and learning about adaptability.

Next, I joined Don and heard memories of Vietnam, fear, anger and corrosion of the soul. Don carefully walked me through a story of confronting fear, to find people, community, honor and love in White Earth. Don talked about patients and intension and storytelling. Don talked about confronting fear to find community.

Don and Laurie took me to their gift shop down the road and walked me through the many items, stories and memories they have building the shop together with their family.

July 13th AM

On this Sunday morning my bike was fully loaded. I had a five hour drive ahead of me to White Earth Reservation - to meet folks at the Shooting Star Casino. I was scheduled to meet up with a couple Don and Laurie York. This was going to be my longest drive on the trip and I was anxious to get started. I pulled out of Minneapolis and jumped on 94 towards Elk River. There I grabbed Hwy 10 and backtracked the route I had taken back to Minneapolis from St. Cloud.

The wind was strong, very strong. My stomach dropped a couple times as the wind blew my bike and I, around in the concrete lane. I could feel my body getting beat up. I was hoping that the wind would change as I got further out.

Along the way I caught up with a train running along Hwy 10. I smiled and thought I would travle alongside for a minute. I have no idea why I enjoyed driving with the train. I just did. The contrasting beauty of the train against the open fields and open sky was exciting. I passed the train and road for a while before cutting back to the tracks. I wanted to try and capture the sound of the train going by. I hurried to get my audio recorder up, and my camera out too. I had just enough time before the train came rushing by. I watched as car after car rolled by. Graffiti dressed the sides of the cars, calling my attention to the many towns and cities these cars stop in and the many people who also pay attention to the trains. The last car finished the sounds of the tracks and faded into the distance. I got on my bike and got back on the highway.

The wind was relentless. I had to stop a couple times to rearrange my things. On the road my head seemed to get slapped across the face as huge gusts of wind came across the road. I kept moving between focused and calm to freaked out and scared. I kept riding, I was trying to let this part of the journey happen the way it needed to. Hours passed and my body felt blown, smacked and pushed around. I turned onto Hwy 59 in Detroit Lakes to head into White Earth. This ride was calmer.

The views of the farms were gorgeous. I smelled the air and felt the ground beneath my bike. I had made great time. I rolled into the Casino.

July 12th

I got up and sorted through my things. I was to interview my parents tonight before I headed out in the morning for White Earth. One of the ways I am learning to confront my own fear is by taking the questions I ask people outside of my family, and bringing them to the people close to me. I was excited and nervous to ask my parents the same questions I have been asking people across the state.


I met my parents at a golf course they play on often. The course is on the edge of Hennepin County in the North West corner. We found a room tucked away in the clubhouse and I interviewed my dad first.

My dad shared a story about self discovery after going through a divorce with his first wife. I listened to him talk about the fear of not meeting his expectations for himself about who he thought he should be. As well as his discovery of humility, and strength that can come from the unknown. He talked about the courage to move forward when facing the loss of expectations, family and love. Facing the fear of divorce had taught my dad to find confidence in himself at a deeper level. I was struck by the deep sense of knowing that came with this experience.

Next, my mom came in, sat down, and opened up for an interview. I started up the mic and listened. Her voice echoed a bit in the room as she talked through the choice she made to work in Hospice. She was afraid to comfort people facing death. With in her story I heard her realization of the intensity of connecting with people as they get ready to leave this life. She told a powerful story about our physical bodies and the basic connections we all crave as our bodies deteriorate.

Facing the fear of our physical bodies deteriorating revealed a truth to her about comfort that is present if we can look past the immediate and see the person. I was touched by the stories my parents shared with me. I am excited to ride forward into the rest of this journey. With a better understanding of fear and what happens when we confront it.

July 11th PM

As planned, I rode back to Minneapolis for this evening. My father has served on a board for 28 years and he was being honored at a dinner and reception in downtown Minneapolis. I got dressed up and planned to say a few nice words about my dad along with folks he had worked with over the years. It was great to be home helping my father celebrate 28 years of his life.

July 11th AM

I woke up early to get my equipment organized, all the audio and photos I had gathered backed up and I met with folks helping on the project. Rebecca, the producer, Carly, the sound engineer and expert, and I sat to review the interviews. It was great to connect with them about the details and talk about my experiences on the road. Carly had some advice, but was happy with the audio. Rebecca and I discussed the second leg of the trip, the logistics, and the communications we’d need to have. After the meeting I felt the project was on track.

July 10th PM

Later in the afternoon, Debra drove me to visit with her friend Hedy Tripp. Hedy coordinates a community anti-racism effort named "Create Community." Hedy invited me into her living room and began to tell me about the community work she helps to organize in St. Cloud. Hedy was confident, warm and focused as we chatted. After explain the project a little more I set the microphone up and sat back as Hedy took me back to a time in the 60’s when she lived in Singapore and was posted during the Vietnam war at the American Embassy. Inside her words I could feel the tension and anxiety created in a culture when governments fear the people they govern. Within Hedy’s story I felt the resiliency that comes after speaking your truth in a government system that stifles individuals that run contrary to the governments perspective. The root of Hedy’s story can be seen in her life’s work in St. Cloud. Singapore’s stories are now wrapped into the stories of Minnesota.

After the interview I shot some photos of Hedy in her backyard. I connected with Debra and we went out for dinner at a Japanese restaurant. We chatted about St. Cloud. She thought that St. Cloud is now 20% people who do not identify as white and this growing change in the population is changing St. Cloud.

We talked about the good and the bad possibilities that could come from this change. But we agreed, that it will eventually work itself out . In our minds, the core issue is about people building relationships with each other.

It felt great to remember the similarities in all the stories I have heard so far. It felt exciting to think that if people listen, they’ll have no problem building relationships.

After dinner, I started up my bike to head back to Minneapolis on Hwy 10. I was headed home for two days for an event for my dad and to interview my parents. I was looking forward to washing my clothes, taking a moment to rest and then getting back on the road for the second half of the trip.

July 10th AM

I woke up in the morning to a fresh cup of coffee and the heavy scent of heat and moisture in the air. A thunderstorm slowly rolled into St. Cloud. I relaxed and listened to the rain. My bike was in Debra’s garage. I laughed to myself at the perfection of my bike being in a garage for the first big storm while I was on this trip. After the storm broke, Debra drove me to the University to see her office and meet her Graduate Assistant, Chrispina, a Tanzanian Nun.

Chrispina and I bantered back and forth and got a long right away. With a suggestion from Debra and persistence from me, Chrispina agreed to an interview. I shut the door, turned on the mic, and over the next 40 minutes heard a beautiful story about family, loss of a parent, support of a community.

What began to emerge was a personal truth that through fearful times, individuals can develop a deep sense of purpose. In Chrispina’s case, her experience has led to a life focused on giving back to children that have lost a parent.

Chrispina’s story felt like the other stories I have been collecting. Fear manifested in a similar way for Chrispina in Tanzania as I had heard in the voices of the Roys' in Grand Rapids.

July 9th PM

I pulled out of the station and got on Hwy 169 heading south. I looped around Atkin, Garrison and Milaca Lake. This was an interesting ride for me. I grew up spending summer weekends up in Garrison on Bay Lake. As I pulled into town I noticed the sign; Garrison - Population 99. Looking around at the developed condos, clinics and lodges, I couldn’t help but feel the population number was off. I have never seen a town of 99 have as many resources and development as I was seeing.

Garrison has changed a lot since I was a young girl. But, my guess is that it was already on its way to being a luxurious summer vacation spot when I came here with my family and I just hadn’t realized it. I noticed that people were driving faster. The vibe was gritty. It seemed that there was friction all around this town. This was a dramatic change from my time north of Duluth where things were easy and fluid.

In some ways I felt like I was looking at myself in Garrison. I was uncomfortable with the familiarity. I looked up in the air and saw a few eagles soaring above - a good sign in my world.

I drove through and found myself in farm communities on back roads towards St. Cloud. As soon as I got a mile off of Hwy 169, the tempo slowed again. I stopped to check my map and an older gentleman walked out to a mailbox, looked over to me said hello and asked if I was lost. Here, rather than speeding cars, I tailed little old ladies who drove their cars slowly through the center of town as a couple of guys in a garage worked on an piece of machinery. I breathed easier with this change. The sun was hot and I continued to zigzag my way down small highways until I came to St. Cloud.

I pulled into downtown St. Cloud...took my helmet off, looked in front of me and I saw an African family walking on the sidewalk in front of me. I was reminded that I hadn’t seen Black folks since I left Duluth. I began to look around St. Cloud… people had a lot more ethnic diversity than I was expecting. I meet up with Debra Leigh, a professor at St. Cloud State University for dinner. After dinner we sat on her back porch for the interview.

Debra came to St. Cloud to teach dance and now works for the University to eliminate institutional Racism. Debra talked about her journey to St. Cloud, teaching dance and discovering her need to teach unlearning racism trainings. As Debra talked I was struck by her trust in God. She reminded me that, to her, God is everywhere and will take care of you in places where you may not know anyone or be familiar with the rules of the environment, but still something larger is at work. After the interview, like many other kind folks on this tour, Debra graciously invited me to stay in her guest room.

July 9th AM

I woke up in Grand Rapids at the home of Denny and Wendy Roy. I gathered up my things, made sure all of my audio and photos had been saved on a hard drive and went outside to strap everything down to my bike. The day looked much sunnier than yesterday. I started up the bike and headed over to the Grand Rapids Community foundation where Wendy worked. The foundation is inside the Grand Rapids mall and across from the large paper mill that employs a lot of folks here. I set up my audio to capture the sounds of the office.

Wendy helps to handle money from families and individuals that want to make a difference in the Grand Rapids community. I listened as she open stock statements to look at the gains or losses of the money the foundation was going to have to give away. Wendy called donors to let them know about specifics needs for their money and helped to manage the projects the foundation funds. Watching this work reminded me of the stories Wendy and Denny had shared with me the night before. I was looking at the results of people interested in supporting a community, the organizers connecting need with resources and remembering that the woman running this effort definately had understood need in her own life.

I left the foundation and headed over to the radio station in Grand Rapids, KAXE, for a quick interview with the morning host Scott Hall. Scott and I chatted about the tour and the stories I had been hearing from folks across the North Woods. I reflected on the impact the stories were having on me and I remembered Jessi’s story about facing fear and finding accountability with herself.

Link to KAXE www.kaxe.org

We wrapped up the interview and I headed on to St. Cloud.

July 8th PM

I started up my bike and headed out of Ely. The winds were strong and the sky looked like rain. It was a cold day. I pulled out and got about 20 miles before I had to pull over and put my chaps on. It still amazes me that July in Minnesota and the weather can be so cold. I drove down Hwy 169 keeping my speed up because my hands were freezing and I wanted to get to someplace warm. I pulled over in Hibbing, Minnesota, a mining town. My hands were frost bit, and numb. Before I stopped into a café, I climbed a hill to look out over a working mine. I snapped some photos, unable to feel the buttons on my camera with my finger. I looked out over the landscape. I felt awe at the carved out ore. The earth was dug up, sifted and moved around. My attention for a few moments was focused on how our lives are built in part, by the reaching in and turning of the ground. I tried to imagine what it would be like to me a miner, a person in our society responsible for cutting up the land, picking the earth up and hauling it away everyday. Not to mention the profound health risks that would seem to be involved with such work. I am standing as a passer-by in Minnesota’s mining country. Before now, I had never given much thought to mining. This way of making a living off the land is different from the skills I saw folks using in the North Woods.



After viewing the mine, I warmed up in a café, clinging to a cup of decaf coffee. Then I moved on. I drove into the road construction in downtown Grand Rapids. The Mississippi runs in the middle of town. I met John, a rural mail carrier and Naturalist…. Well he used a word more specific to the study of plants, but I can’t remember the term. He talked to me about what was blooming; how far behind the average summer schedule we are this year with the cold weather. After chatting with John, I headed to Wendy and Denny Roy’s home.

The Roy’s invited me in to their home and we sat down for dinner. They live on a large lake, but like most big lakes I have been encountering in the last few days, it was over flowed water from the Mississippi. After dinner I sat down with Wendy and Denny individually. Each told me a touching story about the loss of a parent at an early age. Each of them talked about a time in their marriage when they thought that Denny was sick with Cancer. They were profoundly scared when they imagined their kids going through the pain of losing a parent. For Denny, this led him to talking about the power of fatherhood.

Each told me the lessons of family, giving back to community and moving forward when faced with fear. I observed their insights in the ways they communicated with each other. It was clear the story they had chosen to talk about was still alive in their lives today.

July 8th AM

In the morning I gathered my things and loaded the bike back up to head back into Ely one more time before I left. I stopped to see Mike and Mary at the Boundary Waters Radio Station for an interview on the air. Mike and Mary run the Ely Public Access station as well. Mary filmed the interview for the Ely TV. Cliff, the friend who showed me around the day before, hung out for the interview. Later I grabbed some coffee and ran into Ropey and Cliff again before leaving town. A part of me was sad to know I was headed away from the North Woods. Ely will be a memorable stop in this Journey.

You can visit Mike and Mary's station at www.BoundaryWatersRadio.com

July 7th PM

For the rest of the day in Ely I chatted with folks around town. Before the rain came in I headed North to the end of Hwy 169 to Lake One, a launch point into the Boundary Waters or BWCA as folks say around here. I have never been in the Boundary Waters and it is interesting to be in a city that so many folks travel to before they go on their camping trips into these gorgeous waters. On my way back into town I stopped to watch some vultures feast on a deer carcass. Ely is beautiful, unique and a place where the clash between tourism, and local folks seems to be alive.