Yesterday was a grueling, arduous day of bicycling that had its moments of beauty and satisfaction. I began my trip in Delray to a host of disbelievers, even myself a weary one. 80 miles with a banjo and probably about 100lbs of gear on my bike, it was going to be a long day to make it to Homestead and Bee Heaven Farm. In the beginning I was very observant to the many people who were looking at me funnily, in disbelief, and found it mildly rewarding. The hardest part was when I went down the Linton bridge to get to A1A because I was very inexperienced with the amount of weight that I almost wobbled out of control and into catastrophe. However, I was able to maintain it and started down A1A barely escaping collision. It was a great morning for cycling. Mostly cloudy, with a little sunshine, but I had been told it was supposed to rain. Fortunately, it did not. As I cycled ten miles to the Spanish River, my forearms felt strained and nervous. I took a piss and rearranged things, which unclenched my hands from feelings of desperation. It was a very unsteady ride, a lot of swerving at the beginning, but I grew to become used to it and by the time I hit Miami I felt enough in control to ride in the street where there was no bike path.
     I had a few interesting encounters. For example, I did not know it was cool for people to have a restaurant job and no absolutely no English. I discovered this at a smoothie shop a few miles outside of North Miami. It was a good experience, a chance to use the years of Spanish to my advantage. I ended up spending much of my 11 hours on the bicycle thinking about Spanish and trying to remember what all I could. I met a cool dude in Ft. Lauderdale who saw me parked up against a wall in the shade. He pulled over, I thought he wanted directions, but he just wanted to ask me where I was riding from and tell me how fucking sweet it was. He even offered me to go fishing off of his boat, which takes people out commercially for tours and fishing trips, for free. It was a great offer, I kind of wished I agreed, but ended up declining because I wanted to get here. I figure the trip was about eighty miles. The longest trip I have even done by bicycle, but rewarding and strengthening. I made it through downtown Miami via US1 and then went to South Dixie Highway and took that all the way about 24 miles to Homestead. It was a long trek, but gave me a good template to grasp my capabilities.
     When I arrived last night, I started yelling at the gate. "Hello, BEE HEAVEN! I'm the New WWOOFER."
I heard someone talking on their cell phone and all of a sudden I met Liberty who opened the gate and let me it. I was there. Thank God. I did not want to pitch a tent out here. Anyways, I made it to the barn, where the bunks are and was introduced to the other wwoofers. It was great, food and a bed. All I could ask for. I dug into a pizza, at like 7 pieces, took a shower, and headed to bed.
     When I woke up, it was cold and I had to layer up. I looked outside to clouds and wind. I made some oatmeal and soon met Margie, the owner who welcomed me kindly. I was ready to work. We sat down talked over the days duties. I helped load up the truck for the market, then made some boxes for the CSA shares, and finished the morning by constructing a pseudo-trellis for the tomatoes out of bamboo with Mike and Pedro. At lunch, I talked with the manager Jane who is also from Michigan. We talked about Copper Harbor in the UP, Detroit, the thumb, the farmland, the freshwater, and all the great things about Michigan.
After lunch, I headed back out and worked on thinning a row of beets. Thinning is when you have to remove or transplant a certain amount of the sprouted plant to give usually the more robust plants space to grow and thrive. I was told that Margie said whoever sowed this row used enough seed for 1000 acres and I believe it! There were so many sprouts it was a very timely and tedious job separating them and replanting what all we could. I did that for about 2 and a half hours. I think this experience of farming is great. It really makes me realize the hard work involved in growing good, organic food and understanding the time and energy that goes into it.
     After that, at about 4 o'clock, I was told I could call it a day. I went up to my bunk and read a little of Lance Armstrong's autobiography then took a nap. I'll be eating dinner shortly and know it will be delicious.
Fare thee all well,
Tommy