09-11-09

I’ve been looking into volunteer positions with Americorp and one particular program seems to be opening itself up to me on the Rio Grande on the Texas Mexico border. The program focuses on preserving the Rio Grande and its history, while growing recreation and tourism through things like water paddle sports and building bike trails. Another goal of growing outdoor recreation is fitness and fighting obesity. They are considering making the program mobile with RVs and have a “Donate Your Old RV” program. There are many aspects of the program that fit me well. The location intrigues me too. I would like to head south. This would be about as far south as you can get in Texas. I’d love to soak in the Mexican culture.
My contact in Texas wanted me to write a letter describing how I might fit into the program. Before I wrote it I went for a vigorous bike ride to gather my thoughts. There’s nothing to do on a bike, but think. I truly believe you think at a heightened level while the cardio is pumping, ramming the blood and oxygen through your brain. I rode south on the 101. It’s becoming a familiar ride. It’s nice to stay in a place long enough to start recognizing at least some of the bigger cracks in the road and the more unique road kill. For some reason I had had ABBA, “Fernando” stuck in my head for 3 days, probably from the “Rio Grande” lyrics. I started the ride listening to that song and wound up listening to ABBA the whole ride. The sun was shining, yet fog was rolling in off of the ocean. It seemed odd, but somehow this was the happiest I’d felt in Port Orford, chuggin’ down the highway next to the ocean, listening to ABBA, thinking about the Rio Grande. I rode out 5 miles and turned around. I just wanted to ride 10 miles, then get to that letter. The ride back was fast. The typical north west headwind was light. As I came down the hill into Port Orford I just kept cranking. I passed the 30mph sign going 32 and flew by the buildings, pedestrians and tourists at Battle Rock Beach. The last corner is usually a momentum killer as it opens up to the wind, but this time I just kept rolling. I took my left and shot right by the RV park. I didn’t have the heart to ruin all of my built up speed. I used the extreme slope of the road that goes up to the heads to slow me to a stop. Then turned around, coasted home and feeling euphoric went inside and wrote my letter.
That night while helping Trinity fold out the couch I found the $50 that I had sadly lost exactly 2 weeks ago. I had looked and looked everywhere for it, from the dumpster to the beach. I figured it was gone forever. Trinity had always said that I just misplaced it and would find it someday. When I saw it I started shouting, “I found it, I found it!” We jumped up and down screaming and laughing.