Alex Wilson

25 March 2011. The day started well at the Ayres Hotel in Alpine. I had been pleased to learn the night before that they serve breakfast. Lots of choices: waffles, French toast, bagels, fruit, yogurt, muffins, juice. You name it! I was looking forward to it—stoke up on carbs.

When I went to the breakfast room, I was the only one there. I had decided on waffles and quickly spotted the hot waffle iron. But where was the waffle batter? I looked everywhere, then finally discovered a large dispenser—it looked more like a cappuccino machine of something. With clear signage, I was told to dispense batter into a plastic cup then pour it into the waffle iron (after spraying the waffle iron with some sort of aerosol grease—Pam, I guess). I skipped the Pam, and was pleased that the waffle didn’t stick.

What struck me at this breakfast nook was the waste. Everything was throw-away: the plates (extruded polystyrene), the cups (HDPE), the utensils–everything. And I’m sure that the contents of that waffle batter dispenser goes into the trash as well after it has expired—or is the batter mixed somehow as you draw out your portion? Even the “syrup” (quotes intentional) was in little plastic packets. Welcome to our throw-away society! I realize that in the establishments I frequent back in the Green Mountain State I’m somehow shielded from this level of waste. It was striking.

But that’s not the subject of this blog.

I rode about seven miles to this official starting point of the Southern Tier route at Ocean Beach Park. Click on image to enlarge.

March 24, 2011. After posting the last blog (and struggling a bit with photos in my hotel room), getting breakfast around-the-corner from the Hotel La Pensione (a great place—and reasonably priced—in the Little Italy neighborhood of San Diego), and walking a lot farther than I expected to buy some sunscreen, I wheeled my laden bike (with at least 50 pounds of gear and water) to the elevator and down to the first floor. By the time I finished chatting with the proprietor and got on my bike, it was around 10:30 am.

My plan was to start my journey at the Pacific ocean—Ocean Beach Park, which is the western terminus of Adventure Cycling’s Southern Tier bicycle route across the country. I don’t have any expectations of biking all the way across the country, but I wanted to enjoy the first five or six miles of that route, which is on a bicycle trail. So I biked the roughly seven miles there from the hotel—testing out the loaded bike for the first time. Quite the different performance with a lot of weight on the front!

The above photo with me in it was taken by an obliging guy who was running his dog at Dog Beach (Adventure Cycling’s map instructions warn you about dogs here, but I didn’t have any trouble).

My duffle is on the conveyor and the boxed bike about to be loaded. I spotted this as I was making my way to my seat. Click on photo to enlarge.

I’m at 35,400 feet as I write this bog. Despite some anxiety on my part, my bicycle was boxed and ready to go at Burrows Specialized Sports this morning. I bought the last few items on my list (the last being some over-booties for my bike shoes—after checking the weather where I’ll be biking the next few days). I managed to keep the canvas duffle bag holding my four loaded panniers, tent, and assorted parts removed from my bike, to 48.5 pounds—just under the limit at JetBlue. And I was able to check in all right (I had a lingering concern that I needed to call in advance to let the airline I was traveling with a bike).

As evidenced by the photo posted with this blog (taken from a window on the plane as I was making my way to my seat in the way back), my large duffle and bike made it to the plane. I didn’t stay long enough to see just how roughly the bike was handled, but I have a lot of confidence that it’s with me here!

Snowfall on our first day of spring. Lots of old snow still on the ground in our backyard. Click on photo to enlarge.

It’s springtime in Vermont! Sort-of.

This past weekend I was pruning apple trees with only a light jacket, basking in the warm sun. Today, it’s snowing—helping push me out the door…to San Diego and my Southwestern bicycle trip.

Two more days.

It’s been a long winter here—a great winter for those of us who like snowshoeing and cross-country (or downhill) skiing. But today’s the first full day of spring. I understand that crocuses have been spotted in the area. I’ve been enjoying leaving off my high rubber boots as I take the compost out to our compost bin. I’m ready for spring. On Wednesday, I’ll leave the white behind and fly to San Diego to begin my adventures.

Arrived in Boston at the Seaport World Trade Center for NESEA’s Building Energy Conference. This is significant on several levels. First, it was about 30 years ago that I began as NESEA’s executive director (then it was called the New England Solar Energy Association; now it’s the Northeast Sustainable Energy Association). Second, this is my last event commitment before I begin my sabbatical–something I’ve been planning since last summer.

The sabbatical will be something totally new for me. I’ve been at it for over 30 years, working long days, lots of weekends. Twenty-five of those years have been at my own company, BuildingGreen, Inc. What will it be like to have unfocused time and few deadlines? How will I adjust to eight months of this. Will I be bored? Will I waste time and feel frustrated?

I’m beginning the sabbatical with something totally different: an extended bicycle trip. I fly with bike to San Diego in just over two weeks and will head out eastward, panniers loaded with sleeping bag, solo tent, minimal gear, iPad, and credit card (plus a few other items). I’ll wend my way through the desert Southwest, generally following the Southern Tier route published by Adventure Cycling–though I might veer off now and then to explore desert wildflowers, towns with better food, innovative green developments–who knows what. I’m giving myself up to two months; I have to be at a meeting the week of May 24th. It’s possible that I’ll make it all the way to the Atlantic in Florida (3,100 miles), but more likely, I think, that I’ll not push as hard and spend more time exploring the Southwest–ultimately boarding an Amtrak train somewhere.

But, adventure it surely will be!