Minnesota Motorcycle Stories

FINISH LINE PARTY

2008-07-24T08:21:00.000-07:00

5632 Edgewater Blvd. Mpls.

July 17th Afternoon

2008-07-23T10:04:00.001-07:00

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

2008-07-23T08:36:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-18T11:51:00.001-07:00

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

2008-07-18T11:25:00.001-07:00

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

2008-07-18T11:05:00.001-07:00

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

2008-07-17T12:00:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-17T11:56:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-14T18:03:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-14T11:20:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-14T10:59:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-14T10:47:00.001-07:00

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

2008-07-14T10:46:00.001-07:00

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

2008-07-14T10:43:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-14T10:36:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-14T10:32:00.001-07:00

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

2008-07-14T10:23:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-12T13:47:00.001-07:00

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

2008-07-10T09:17:00.001-07:00

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

2008-07-09T13:53:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-08T10:29:00.000-07:00

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.

July 7th AM

2008-07-08T10:23:00.001-07:00

I woke up early this morning and sat with a cup of coffee out on the dock. I was preparing to go into Ely to meet up with a guy named Cliff. I had no solid interviews set up for today. In the back of my mind I was prepared for some hard work and possibly leaving Ely without an interview. I got into town and met Cliff. I let him size me up and I told him a little more about the project I am doing. Cliff assured me that I would have a tough time getting anyone in Ely to talk with me, at least any folks who grew up in Ely. I assured him I was in for the ride and I had no problem answer people's questions and would understand if nothing worked out. Cliff first brought me over the the Ely Radio Station, Boundary Waters Radio, to meet the couple who ran the station and the Ely Public Access TV. He wanted to see if they could help come up with any strategies I could use to get an interview.

It was a long shot, but after a few conversations Cliff was willing to drive me out to see a guy named Ropey, a retired miner, veteran and a new Harley rider. Two days earlier Cliff had asked Ropi if he'd be interested. At that point Ropey made it clear he had no interest in doing interviews.

But here I was. Cliff offered to drive me out to Ropey's shack off in the woods, with no running water or electricity. My bike wouldn't be able to make it over the beaver dam dirt roads and large rocks. Slowly Cliff and I chatted about Ely as we road deeper and deeper into the woods. We passed a couple of shacks and piles of stuff Ropey kept on the side of the road for a "just-in-case" moment that may arise. We reached is place. Cliff asked me to wait in the truck while he went to ask Ropey if he'd see me. He once again assured me this may be a waste of time and he very well could tell me to get off his land. I sat and waited.

A few minutes later, Cliff came back to the truck and said, "Ropey will give you a shot." He was surprised. I was surprised as well and jumped out of the truck and walked up to Ropey's place. His place was decorated with lots of animal bones, including an entire rib cage and spine of a deer. Ropi had just woke up.

Once inside I turned on the mic and listened. Ropey was a Veteran, Miner and a guy who had lived some amazing moments in life. A great storyteller Ropey, began to tell a story of surviving a flood and the changes it made in his life. In his heart, Ropey had learned the importance of kindness and the determination to see his way through fear to the other side. I was touched by his stories and felt privileged to be sitting in his home, hearing him talk about the things he knew to be true about the world.

After our interview, he let me snap a few quick portraits of him. He wished me well on my journey and cliff and I headed back out on the road we came in on. Cliff couldn't believe what had happened. Inside I couldn't help but be thankful for the friends that had connected me to Ely, Cliff and eventually to Ropey. I knew I had just had a special experience that would not have happened if the many folks helping out with this project weren't there.

July 6th PM

2008-07-08T09:54:00.000-07:00

I traveled back down 61 and got off on Highway 1 towards Ely. Immediately the air warmed up as I headed away from the lake. It felt like how July should feel in my mind - hot. The road twisted and turned through Superior Forest. It was a beautiful ride. Around one turn, I stopped to let a doe and two fawns cross the road. The amount of wild life up hear has blown me away. I have never seen so many creatures everywhere I look.

I reach my friends, Mary and Tom, cabin in Ely on Eagle’s Nest Lake. They have been kind enough to let me use it while I stay in Ely. I arrived and sat out on their dock.

July 6th AM

2008-07-08T09:40:00.000-07:00

I woke up to the sound of rain on my tent and hitting the rocks on the beach. I slept in to let the rainstorm pass over before packing up. The storm ended quickly and I was able to break down my tent and get packed up by 10am. I stopped up the road at Naniboujou Lodge for their Sunday Brunch. The lodge was built just before the Depression in the 1930’s. After Breakfast I said good-bye to Kristi and thanked her for opening her life and home to me. Jessi hooked up with me to take her portrait photo and we said good-bye. I was off on the road again.

July 5th PM

2008-07-08T09:29:00.000-07:00

I ate dinner with Kristi outside on the beach back at her place. We talked the history of this land since her family bought is in 1954. After dinner I interviewed her and she took me through a story of fighting Breast Cancer, embracing her passion over 45 years as a potter and the determination to create pottery in her cabin on the shore of Lake Superior. I absorbed the lessons of kindness, honesty and relationships as she talked. Kristi found the center of her work, and her self, after being diagnosed with Breast Cancer.

After connecting with Kristi I met up with Jessi Nicholson at her solar powered cabin in Hovland. I listened intently as Jessi told the story of discovering acupuncture after being confronted with mental health diagnoses. Jessi talked from her heart about living on the Gun Flint Trail and learning about the beauty and balance of nature. Jessi told me the story of self discovery, her root in the woods of Cook County and the decision to become a healer. Jessi shared a powerful story of accountability to oneself.

After the interview Jessi drove me back to my tent at 2am. As we drove down the drive way to where my tent was, we saw a wolf duck into the woods and head in the direction of where I was to sleep that night, Jessi mentioned she’d been seeing this pair of wolves in the area. I had never seen a wolf before, let alone ever thought about camping with one.

Freaked out, I waited in the car a few minutes before heading to my tent. I rationalized that the wolf would be more scared of me than I was of him. And although I was scared, I smiled remembering that this whole trip is about facing fear.

My gut was telling me the wolf wanted to be more of a sign for me to trust the journey I was on, than a threat to my safety. I was scared to spend the night alone, and I figured this was a great opportunity to push myself. Jessi drove off and I spent the night alone in the tent and I asked the wolves to protect me. I am glad I did. I had a peaceful night and I got a little further over my fear of nature.

July 5th AM

2008-07-08T09:23:00.000-07:00

Today I got up to the warming of the air after a cool night by the shore of Lake Superior. I was hoping to track down Jessi Nicholson, an acupuncturist in Grand Marais for an interview and visit Kristi at the Hovland Art Festival. The morning was spent in Grand Marias finding Jessi and becoming familiar with the small town. In the afternoon I traveled on my bike 15 Miles east to Hovland, for the Art Festival. I walked around the artists who had created Birch Wood canoes, yarn, quilts, photography, jewelry and pottery.

I sat by Kristi as she talked me through the making of a pot. Beth, a friend of Kristi’s and her bookkeeper, chatted with me about the Gunflint Trail, Hovland and adjusting to living back in the town after years on the Trail.

July 4th PM

2008-07-07T14:21:00.000-07:00

After the parade I left town, headed east on 61 until I reached KKD Pottery, the home of Kristi Downing. Kristi lives on the shore of Lake Superior in a modest, but gorgeous little cabin home. I met Kristi when she returned home after showing her pottery work at the Hovland Art Festival all day. I set up my tent on her beach and began to get to know Kristi. That night I went to bed staring at Lake Superior. I was trying to make sense of this lake that I know almost nothing about. The clear deep blue, tells a story, and I have no idea what that story is. But I get the sense that everyone living on it's shore lives by this story.

July 4th AM

2008-07-07T13:54:00.000-07:00

I woke up and slowly packed up my things. I had to leave Duluth for Grand Marais today, and I was expecting it to be a 3-hour drive, with a stop to rest. It took me a little longer to get out of town than I expected, but once on the road, the amazing scenery of the North Shore surrounded me. Superior is beautiful, strong and mysterious to me. I am not familiar with the part of Minnesota. A location so defined by this gigantic body of water. A lake nothing like the Minnesota Lakes I am used to, with docks and jet skis. Superior has huge cargo ships and a few fishing boats and hardly even did I see a dock. On the way I stopped at an Industrial little town that reminded me of the work Lake Superiors does for industry and us.

Eventually I rolled into Grand Marais. It was the 4th of July and folks were out wondering around in the sun, while I stopped to put another layer on, because the temper change on the way was amazing. By the Marina, I figured it was 20 degrees cooler than when I left Duluth. I had felt the temperature change through turns and hills all along the way.

I stayed in Town for the 4th of July Parade before heading out to the place I was going to stay a few miles further on 61 near a town called Hovland.

Self-Portrait

2008-07-05T09:02:00.000-07:00

On my way to Duluth on 61, in the parking lot of Peggie Sue's Cafe.

July 3 PM

2008-07-05T08:47:00.000-07:00

After the interview with Rick I wondered around Duluth, drove over the lift bridge and spent a couple hours in the Rose Gardens. By 5pm I was meeting with Jen Wright, a writer and probation officer, she recently wrote the book Winter Storm, a lesbian mystery that takes place around Duluth. Jen discussed the moment she decided to write I book centered on a lesbian character and weighing the possible aftermath the book may cause her with her job. Through our conversation stories about risk, growth and support came through. Plus I got to see Jen’s new, old bike, a Honda Silver Wing. I had no idea this bike existed. The Silver Wing is the baby to the Gold Wing.

After leaving Jen’s, I hooked up with Kim Griffin, who finished Surgical Tech School, and because of a hiring freeze is working at a group home. When asked to talk about a time in her life when she faced her fears and changed her life, Kim was reminded of her relationship with her mother. She spent the time talking about honesty, love and the struggle to bring her complete self into her mother’s life. Kim’s story reminded me of the importance of family to be real, loving and at times very different.

That night I went to bed reflecting on the stories I had heard so far. It was day 3 and already I felt myself changing. I felt the fatigue of riding. I was settling in to what my life was going to be like for the next three weeks. I decided to not try to make sense of everything too much just yet and trust that it will all come together by the end of the trip in a way that I most likely can’t imagine now.

July 3 AM

2008-07-05T08:42:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning exhausted. I am assuming this is from the long bike ride yesterday. I guess riding all day fatigues my body. We’ll I was up and had a cup of coffee, pulled things together and headed back into Duluth to Canal Park for an interview with Rick Kollath, a graphic designers and Illustrator. I managed to navigate this gigantic 1500cc bike through the streets of Duluth to Rick’s office, a very cool, warehouse looking space that he shares with several other creative minds.

We sat down, moved once for better sound and moved one more time before Rick opened up about his adventures canoeing, climbing, and hiking. What became clear was that even with all of the great stories he had about outdoor adventures, he chose to talk about starting his own business. I sat back and listened as he explained to me how he faced many fears and changed his life when he decided to open a business.

July 2 PM

2008-07-04T15:07:00.001-07:00

Danette Kimball, works with youth and lives in Duluth. She showed me around Wed. night. We watched ships come in, had a beer from a local brewery and sat down for an interview. Against the sounds of the waves on Lake Superior and the chirping of birds, Dannette talked about the courage to understand what she needs from relationships and when to recognize she is giving too much and not talking care of herself. We closed the night sitting in a hot tub listening to trains go by.

July 2 AM

2008-07-04T14:57:00.001-07:00

July 2nd, I woke up today and was ready to say good-bye to Donna and the folks at Dream of Wild Health farm in Hugo, Minnesota. I packed my bags, joined the group in a prayer of intention for the day, offered tobacco and thank everyone for offering up a place for me to stay and hear stories. I sat down on my bike, started it up… started it up… started it up again… nothing. Day two of the trip and my bike wasn’t interested in getting on the road. Pedro, one of the staff at Dream of Wild Health and a great guy, explored the possible reasons why my bike wouldn’t start. We charged the battery, tried to jump the bike and nothing. Rich, my friend from the cities, called at this exact time to ask how I was doing. He suggested hitting the starter with a wrench to see if we couldn’t start the bike that way. We did. The sound changed a bit, but still no luck. We decided that if I could get the bike started, I would drive it back to Rich’s, drop it off and take his 1500cc Intruder to finish the trip. The only way this was going to happen is if Pedro and I could get the bike going fast enough to pop it into 2nd gear. I rolled down the driveway, popped it and was off… at least until the end of the drive way where is stalled out. Pedro and I pushed the bike up a hill on the highway in the scorching heat, while horse flies entertained themselves by biting our back, arms, necks and legs. We got to the top. I coasted down. Popped the bike in 2nd. Revved the engine as much as I could before a stop sign about to come up. I made a rolling stop, looked quickly and didn’t dare stop the bike. I was off. All I had to do was make it to Highway 35 and my engine would be warm enough to make it all the way. One horse fly had decided to come along for the ride under my jacket. Biting me, biting me, biting me. I swatted at it. It bit me harder. Swatted it again. He bit me again. I carefully tested if I could pull over and keep the bike going. I did. Released the fly. And drove to switch bikes. After repacking, I got on Highway 61 and head towards Duluth.

July 1 PM- wee hours

2008-07-04T14:53:00.000-07:00

Late at night on July 1st, I sat down with Pam McBridge on the Shore of Forest Lake. In between Mosquito bites, Pam talked with me about leaping into life when she made the choice to have her son. With each interview I am learning more and more about the human desire to connect and be loved.

July 1 PM

2008-07-03T11:00:00.000-07:00

My first stop is a farm in Hugo, called Dream of Wild Health. Donna LaChapelle lives here. Summer youth programs began on Monday and kids are all over learning about healthy food, diets and traditional Native American ways of living. I chatted with the kids, learned about the farm and tasted vegetables straight out of the ground. Later in the evening I sat down with Donna to ask her about a time in her life when she faced fear and was changed forever. I was privileged to hear an amazing story about family, love and the decision to live a grounded life.

July 1

2008-07-03T10:20:00.001-07:00

Today I loaded up my bike, checked to make sure nothing was going to catch in my wheel. Packed up, I sat down and felt the start of the next three weeks. I have no idea what to expect. I don't know if this bike will make the trip and if I will find anything interesting in the stories people are about to share with me. Of course, I am betting that the bike will make it, that folks do want to sit down and share their stories about fear, risk and life changes. Today, I will find out. Today I will know if all this planning, equipment, and courage will be worth the adventure. Nothing like making a five year old dream come true.

Sound Check

2008-06-30T07:53:00.000-07:00

Carly Zuckweiler, sound engineer with HDMG, goes over the details, tricks and "have-tos" for recording audio with me before I take off. Carly has been the sound expert extraordinaire for the Minnesota Motorcycle Stories by helping me to successfully leap from filmmaking to podcasting. Two very different beasts.

Kick Off Party

2008-06-30T06:47:00.000-07:00

June 19th marked the kick-off of the Minnesota Motorcycle Stories project. Folks came by to connect and walk through a 15' x 20' map of Minnesota drawn on the patio. Destinations carved out with sidewalk chalk, marked my intended journey into the stories of people across Minnesota. The crowd raised gas money, ate S'mores and shared stories about life changing events. A special thank you to everyone who helped, stopped by or gave a bit of advise. Over the four hours, many familiar faces came through and some new ones. Each of you reminded me that no project can happen alone. I look forward to seeing you all again on July 25th at the Welcome Home Party!

Harley Patrol

2008-06-20T10:33:00.000-07:00

I sat down with Sgt. Rich Jackson of the Minneapolis Police Department to ask him about motorcycles. Jackson led the department to bring police motorcycles back to the streets of Minneapolis after a 50 year disappearance of officers on cruisers. Jackson researched the effectiveness of bikes in a police department, before proposing the department's use of bikes. He found faster response times and efficient use of resources were the results departments reported when utilizing motorcycles. Jackson said he was skeptical when he found research pointing to an increase in positive community response to officers on motorcycles. The same research reflected a change in the officers experience as the public began to talk and relate with them because they saw the bike. Jackson was surprised, but had the same experience himself when the Minneapolis Police Department invested in a fleet of Harley Davidsons for their Traffic Division.

Jackson explained to me that once an officer is outside of a box, a squad car, they are vulnerable to the world around them. The same is true for any motorcycle rider. That when a rider is on the road they see everything. They smell and feel everything. This not only changes the publics experience of the officer, but changes the experience of the public for the officer as well.

Jackson is a motorcycle safety instructor and trains both police officers and the public how to ride motorcycles. To take a course with Rich Jackson visit: www.rideracademy.com

MAP

2008-06-15T22:00:00.000-07:00

View Larger Map

Dusting Off the Bike

2008-06-07T20:19:00.000-07:00

The Start Line

2008-06-01T10:50:00.000-07:00

I am curious. My friends and family worry about my safety. I am a magnet for taboo conversations. Fear has been a constant companion in my life, rational and irrational fears, fears around work, home life or personal reflections. My confrontations with fear have been my most life changing events. What better way to embrace this companion and discover its many mutations, than by capturing the stories of this ill-mannered friend in the lives of Minnesotans who have faced their fears and changed their lives.

This blog will follow the Minnesota Motorcycle Stories project from start to finish. You are invited to observe, participate and share your thoughts about the question: "When have you faced fear and changed your life?”