Michael Johnson-Chase 9/14/24 Michael Johnson-Chase 9/14/24

A Province of Foresight: Biking Newfoundland

Writing by Michael Chase, Drawings by Jenny Hershey

We met Pearce Cull outside the last house in St. Anthony Bight at the tip of Bobby’s Cove. Pearce was busy rescuing two little fire sparrows that had snuck into his shed. A very kind soul, Pearce feeds the sparrows every day. He also mentioned how hard life is for the seagulls nearby. They used to eat scraps from the fisheries but now have to “survive on berries.” Pearce showed us a nearby bluff filled with crackleberries (“don’t eat 'em”) and partridge berries (“pick those when they’re dark purple, then they’re sweet as can be”). Retired, Pearce spends his time drying cod and being an attentive grandfather. He invited us into his house and shared photos of his kids. We noticed a well-crafted blue guitar, but he told us he no longer plays because his hands “don't work so well.” We learned later from another local that Pearce Cull is a well-known traditional Newfoundland musician and songwriter who achieved fame with numerous recordings, including “The Cold Storage,” a song about a cod fishery he wrote and recorded in the 70s. ….You never know who you’re going to meet up here! Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

“History is a relentless master. It has no present, only the past rushing into the future. To try to hold fast is to be swept aside.”

John F. Kennedy

The Trip

The red line was our route. We left our car in Nova Scotia and biked from Port aux Basques to St. Anthony and L’Anse aux Meadows and back along Newfoundland's western peninsula. With side trips, we cycled about 1100 miles. Next time, we’ll visit St John’s and key places on the eastern shore. And hopefully, someday we will make it to Labrador! We had planned to go this trip, but winds and a lack of time got in our way.

It was probably 50 years ago when I first thought about biking in Newfoundland, and it’s been at least six years since Jenny and I decided to go. In my youth, I imagined circumnavigating the island on a bicycle, not knowing the southern coast is too rugged for a throughroad. That said, it is possible to traverse the whole island on the Trans-Canada Highway between the western and eastern shores (where ferries run between the island and Nova Scotia) by following a single arc that cuts from the southwestern corner of the island to its southeastern shores. However, Jenny and I didn’t take the route from Port aux Basque in the west to Saint John’s in the east (nor did we follow the iconic all-terrain biking “rail trail” that runs roughly along the same route as the Trans-Canada).

A shot of the Tablelands (the flat peak on the right) and Bonne Bay in Gros Morne Provincial Park. The scenery on the western peninsula of Newfoundland is unparalleled, and the island (together with Labrador) is the least densely populated of all the Canadian provinces, at 1.4 people per square kilometer. It is also home to some of the friendliest and most cheerful people we have ever encountered.

We had heard the west coast was more rugged and mountainous than the many scenic bays and forested peninsulas to the east. But the biggest attraction was the overwhelming beauty of the Gros Morne Provincial Park (and UNESCO World Heritage Site) to our immediate north, which has played a significant role in the understanding of plate tectonic theory, a central feature of modern geology. We were also seduced by the L’Anse aux Meadows Viking settlement (another UNESCO World Heritage Site) at the northern tip of the western peninsula, a short distance from Labrador. Finally, we knew the collapse of the cod fisheries in the 1990s had hit the fishing villages on the Westen Pennisula particularly hard, and we wanted to learn how communities were faring.

So, we left the main highway at Deer Lake and biked up the final stretch of the Appalachian mountains known to Newfoundlanders as the “Long Chain” and then hugged the coast almost to the northern end of the western Peninsula, passing through Gros Morne. A hundred or so miles above the park, the route passes within easy sighting of Labrador, providing access to the only ferry on the island between Newfoundland and its sibling province on Canada’s mainland. We finally turned east and crossed a high, rocky, windswept plateau that meanders to its end at the northeastern tip of the peninsula at L’Anse aux Meadows. If you go directly, the trip up and back is about 1520 kilometers or about 900 miles. It’s more than worth the effort. On bicycles, it’s extraordinary. It was simultaneously the most beautiful and challenging cycling trip Jenny and I have taken.

Fishing boats docked in Flowers Cove. Across the Gulf of St Lawrence, in the background, lies Labrador.

As we cycled toward Labrador, we were intrigued to learn that it has shared centuries of intertwined history with Newfoundland. Labrador was settled along its coastline, and navigating the 30 miles across ice or water in the upper Gulf of St Lawrence to get to Newfoundland is far easier than navigating a thousand miles overland through boreal forest to reach lower Canada. The region's earliest known inhabitants were the Innu and Inuit in Labrador and the Beothuk in Newfoundland. These groups had rich cultures and trading histories long before European explorers arrived. The first known European contact came around 1000 AD when the Vikings briefly settled at L'Anse aux Meadows. Through the 16th to 18th centuries, Newfoundland and Labrador were battlegrounds for colonial competition between European powers, notably the English and French. The French occupied Labrador and Newfoundland’s Western Peninsula for a time, and the British occupied eastern Newfoundland, establishing St. John’s as America’s oldest city in 1583.

The 20th century brought significant changes, including Newfoundland and Labrador's brief period as an independent Commonwealth dominion starting in 1907. However, economic difficulties during the Great Depression led to Newfoundland and Labrador joining Canada as its tenth province in 1949. Their shared history has shaped Newfoundland and Labrador's unique cultural and political identity, blending Indigenous heritage with European influences and modern Canadian development.

The Context

If you have read other posts on this blog, you know we look at our cycling trips through the lens of Earth’s rapidly changing climate. Over the past few years, extreme weather events have increased in number, intensity, and duration at a pace that requires us to catch up every time we travel (approximately every other month).

Here’s an example: Global temperatures between June and August this year averaged 1.5 degrees Celsius (2.7 degrees Fahrenheit) above the preindustrial average. The sweltering season reached its apex in late July, breaking a record for the four hottest days ever recorded. Temperatures for this year have far exceeded anything seen in more than 80 years of recordkeeping, making it all but certain that 2024 will be the hottest year known to science.

Although we are in Canada, we begin our climate review in the United States since the US is the most prone to weather-related disasters among the three countries occupying the North American continent. Because of its unique geography and unsurpassed variety of climatic zones that span two oceans, the Gulf of Mexico and the Rocky Mountains, Americans suffer disproportionately from weather extremes compared to their neighbors. By August 2024, the US had already experienced over fifteen separate $billion-plus weather and climate disasters. Total costs for extreme events in the US for 2024 may eventually exceed $50 billion, along with several hundred fatalities (there were 84 known fatalities by the end of May). Some estimates of property damage from Hurricane Beryl’s landfall in Texas have already exceeded $30 billion. And, as I write this, in the first week of September, at least 36 million Americans are enduring record-breaking heatwaves in the Southwest and on the West Coast. In the Los Angeles area, over 110,000 acres of land are currently burning due to the intense heat. The fires have forced tens of thousands of people to evacuate and have destroyed dozens of homes. The situation remains critical, with dry conditions and complex terrain challenging firefighting efforts.

Hopefully, last year’s wildfires were an exception in Canada, when fires released over 647 million tons of carbon into the atmosphere. (That amount is roughly comparable to India's annual CO2 emissions and more than four times larger than Canada's.) While not as brutal, the 2024 season has still been severe, with over 6,500 fires recorded so far across British Columbia, Alberta, and the Northwest Territories. In addition, Eastern Ontario, Northern and Southern Quebec, and Atlantic Canada all experienced intense heatwaves in June, as temperatures hovered significantly above past normals.

Rain clouds above on our second day out, as we rested near an old fishing shack looking across Sandy Point Bay toward Stephenville.

Our arrival in Newfoundland coincided with the end of a dry spell as we endured four days of heavy rain and wind from Hurricane Ernesto after we disembarked from the ferry. Nevertheless, we could easily see how dry the rivers and grasslands had become. With global ocean temperatures at record highs, the Canadian Hurricane Centre expects a very active hurricane season. We have not forgotten that prediction, and as I write this, we are following Francine's impact on Louisiana and points north.

The rest of the world has experienced its fair share of extreme weather events this year, including severe and enduring heatwaves in India, the Philippines, Thailand, and Bangladesh. In India, temperatures reached up to 46.3°C or 115.34 F, considerably impacting public health and daily life. As if that wasn't bad enough, a combination of global warming and deforestation led to devastating landslides there in July, resulting in the deaths of over 420 people. The state of Rio Grande do Sul in Brazil faced extensive flooding between April and May, with over 100 fatalities and significant damage. At the same time, 7.4 million acres of Brazil’s Amazon burned in the first half of 2024, a 122% increase from the previous year. The United Arab Emirates experienced its heaviest rainfall in 75 years in April, causing widespread flooding and disruptions, leading to over 225 deaths and displacing more than 212,630 people.

We met Doug and Cyril in the town of St. George. They are best friends and have fishing cabins next to each other, and both work in the limestone mine on the other side of the bay in Stephenville. Doug offered to let us eat lunch on his porch as a respite from Hurricane Ernesto's rain as we all chatted about Newfoundland’s changing weather and politics in the US. Locally born, both men were unequivocal about how the weather has changed since they were kids; there is less and less snow every year, the winters are warmer and shorter, the summers hotter and longer, and there are longer spells of rain and drought than there used to be. Regarding US politics, Doug believed our economy was better under Trump. But Cyril didn’t buy it, and he called Trump a “Hitler.” As opposite as their views were, there was little divisive energy between them. Ironically, Doug is in blue, and Cyril is in red. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Newfoundland and Labrador

Like the rest of Canada, 2023 was a challenging year for wildfires in Newfoundland and Labrador. This year has been better, but with temperatures averaging approximately 0.8C (1.44F) above historical norms, fires will intensify as the climate grows warmer. In addition, sea ice will decrease, permafrost will thaw, and wildlife and vegetation will change. Like Doug and Cyril above, every Newfoundlander we met acknowledged how much warmer the weather is from a few decades ago. The warming climate directly affects local communities, most notably in Labrador where cold temperatures are crucial in daily life. Warmer winters are disrupting traditional activities and cultural events, such as snowmobile races and even the Labrador Winter Games.

Salted cod drying in the sun at Pearce Cull’s place in St Anthony’s Bight. Pearce kindly explained to us how he cures salt cod the way Newfoundlanders have for centuries.

For most of their history, Newfoundland and Labrador’s economies and cultures have depended heavily on fishing. The province's cold, nutrient-rich waters have supported abundant fish stocks, mainly cod, for centuries. However, overfishing led to the tragic collapse of cod stocks in the 1990s, devastating coastal communities. Although the discovery of offshore oil reserves in the late 1970s helped to diversify the province's economy, the offshore rigs are located off the eastern shore and have not brought employment to the western peninsula. However, iron ore, nickel, gypsum, limestone and rock salt mining have all been significant job providers on the western shore.

Primus, a retired fisherman, helped Jenny and me escape a challenging situation. We met him in his hometown of Green Island Brook in far northern Newfoundland. Although Jenny and I had cycled across a very windy high plateau as we left St. Anthony to begin our trip back to Port aux Basques, we hit ferocious 30-40 mph winds as we turned down the coast toward Saint Barbe. We couldn't stay upright, even on our fully-loaded pedal-assist e-bikes. We had already drained our batteries of most of their power getting over the plateau, so using enough energy to ride 26 more miles in that wind was not an option. We probably had covered about 4 miles since we had hit the coast when we saw a tiny cluster of houses in a cove ahead. Jenny had made her mind up. We took a turn down Main St and saw a child playing outside in the wind with her dog. She was having fun throwing a frisbee that would travel far in the wind, and her dog was happy to bring it back. We noticed the child’s mother standing in the doorway of a nearby house. Jenny removed her helmet to reveal her gray hair and said,” I hear the people of Newfoundland are good people, and we are in trouble.” In a moment, an older man came to the door and listened patiently to Jenny’s tale. He said, “My brother can help you.” He went back inside, and in a few minutes a man drove up the road in an old pickup truck. With the thickest Newfie accent we had heard yet, Primus and his brother helped us load our bikes and gear into his truck, and he drove us to our motel in Saint Barbe. Although we couldn't understand everything Primus was saying, we learned that shore fishing was no longer possible, and there was little work for most of the permanent residents along this coast. Consequently, the population is aging and schools are closing. It turned out that day's wind was so intense that the only ferry to Labrador had been cancelled. The next day was a bit less windy, and the ferry resumed. And so did we, continuing south for the remainder of our trip with a substantial headwind and periods of rain. But it was manageable, proving the adage that “what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.” Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Foresight

In recent years, Newfoundland and Labrador have formalized plans to transition to renewable energy exports by using wind power to generate green hydrogen. Given the province's longstanding economic ties to resource extraction and fishing, it seems fitting that the province would leverage its abundant wind and strategic location to become a significant player in the fast-growing global clean energy economy.

In fact, the province is already home to a clean electricity industry, although not without its downsides. Approximately 96% of Newfoundland’s electricity is supplied by hydropower, primarily from Labrador. The largest hydroelectric station was built in the late 1950s at Churchill Falls, about 150 miles east of Labrador City. In 2020, a smaller hydropower station was opened at Muskrat Falls, just east of Goose Bay, Labrador. In the 1960s, a power station was built at Bay d’Espoir in Newfoundland. The two stations in Labrador transmit power to Newfoundland via the Labrador-Island link or LIL.

Although there was limited pushback during construction in the 1950s and 60s when the first hydroelectric plants at Churchill Falls and Bay d’Espoir were constructed, the recent construction of Muskrat Falls in Labrador frustrated many locals across the Province. The project was initially estimated to cost $6 billion but, plagued by management problems, ballooned to over $13 billion, causing electricity rates to increase. In addition, ongoing technical issues have required costly repairs and raised doubts about the project's long-term viability. And although Indigenous groups and environmentalists raised alarms about methylmercury contamination, their concerns were overlooked.

Jenny and Michael relax at Arches Provincial Park on Newfoundland's western shore.

Sadly, it is now understood that the flooding of large areas common to the construction of hydroelectric dams can adversely impact local Indigenous communities by limiting access to traditional hunting grounds. Further, these plants do indeed result in methylmercury contamination, harming regional food harvesting downstream. It is known that indigenous residents who rely on “country” food sources face more methylmercury exposure than other Canadians. Long-term dietary exposure to methylmercury causes neurocognitive delays in children, including long-term brain development issues, attention deficit behavior, and reductions in verbal function and memory. Additionally, methylmercury damages cardiovascular health in adults.

Ironically, none of the Indigenous communities affected by downstream mercury contamination receive electricity from the Muskrat Falls Project or the Churchill Falls Project. All six Indigenous communities on Labrador’s North Coast are exposed to contamination from shore fishing and harvesting where the effluence from the Grand River downstream of Churchill and Muskrat Falls flows into the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Yet, electricity in these communities is supplied by diesel generators.

We met Dwayne in Port Saunders as he was hanging off a scaffold and sanding away a crack on the hull of the shrimping boat Cape Robert. In a melodic accent that sounded like a mash-up of Irish hill country and the rocky shores of eastern Canada, Dwayne told us he is crew for a commercial off-shore shrimp fisherman out of nearby Port au Choix. Except for a ten-year stint working on skid-mounted rigs in Alberta's tar sands, Dwayne has fished for shrimp his entire life. He gets 10% of the take for each trip, but part of the deal includes maintaining the ship, so he works for no pay when “she’s” docked. A few times every summer, he and his fellow crew members have to dry-dock the boat, mend all the cracks in the hull, and paint it as quickly as possible to get it back in the water. That’s how the deal works; “It's jus' part o' da arrangement, it is." Dwayne is 62, but he doesn’t see retiring anytime soon. He’s always spends what he earns, so he needs every penny to get from one season to the next. Seemingly unbothered and quite cheerfully, he told us, "I'll work 'til I can't, me friends. Jus' don't 'ave a choice, do I?" Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Now a public-private corporation under Crown jurisdiction, Newfoundland and Labrador Hydro (NL Hydro) has never needed to generate more clean electricity through wind power. However, they do need to address inequities in their design and siting plans for their hydropower to include and benefit local indigenous communities. The lack of need for wind power may explain why the province placed a moratorium on wind development in 2002 (which was lifted in 2022). Although there is a maritime link from Newfoundland to Nova Scotia, it is already working at capacity. So years ago, when wind developers came knocking, NL Hydro could neither manage nor build the transmission capacity required to handle wind-generated electricity. NL Hydro and government collaborated to create the moratorium on wind development until they had a sound plan for utilization.

The main sleeping and eating room at L’Anse aux Meadows, a reconstructed Viking settlement dating back to 1000 AD. This extraordinary archeological site (and the only known Viking site in North America) was “discovered” in 1960 by Norwegian explorers and archeologists Helge and Anne Stine Instad. They identified the site (known to locals as the old “Indian” site) as a Norse settlement, which was later confirmed through extensive excavations. Today, L’Anse aux Meadows is a popular tourist destination. We really enjoyed visiting!

And now, because Russia invaded Ukraine, a plan for wind power has finally emerged. Geopolitical trends have driven Europe to avoid buying Russian gas and oil. This has been a boon to America’s shale gas industry, which now exports more natural gas than it uses domestically because Europe no longer wants to do business with Russia. And Germany, in particular, which has long been a leader in clean energy, foresees a massive market for hydrogen as the world moves away from fossil fuels. Germany’s renewable energy sources currently provide 57% of Germany’s electricity. However, electricity can only go so far to address the decarbonization of shipping, aviation, long-haul ground transport, rocket fuel, and the production of basic materials such as cement and steel. Hydrogen can address all those needs. Consequently, Germany seeks to be on the cutting edge of hydrogen development.

With these geopolitics in the background, Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau and German Chancellor Olaf Scholz signed an agreement in August 2022 to develop a transatlantic supply corridor for green hydrogen. The deal, known as the "Canada-Germany Hydrogen Alliance," aims to help Germany reduce its dependency on Russian energy. Since then, a provincial “Request for Projects” (RFP) has resulted in more projects being selected across the island and Labrador. They all aim to use wind power to manufacture green hydrogen through hydrolysis, which can be converted to ammonia and then shipped to European markets, starting with Germany.

But, like the Muskrat Falls Hydroelectric plant construction, this plan has downsides. One of the critical projects in this agreement is the World Energy GH2 initiative, which includes the construction of a large hydrogen manufacturing plant in Stephenville, with 164 wind turbines positioned nearby on the Port au Port Peninsula. Although World Energy GH2 is the first Newfoundland Company to undergo environmental review, it currently must address at least 60 concerns. Other drawbacks include a considerable pushback among the 500+ “old French” residents who live in the Port aux Port peninsula and do not want the rugged character of their beloved peninsula permanently altered. Although almost 45% of the local population is currently on unemployment insurance, and many others are retired, most are skeptical that there will be jobs when the construction phase is complete.

To understand how many jobs are likely once construction is complete, we consulted numerous sources through Microsoft's AI tool Copilot, and we learned that after the construction phase, a 3900 megawatt wind farm (approximately the size of the World Energy GH2 project proposal) and its associated wind to green hydrogen supply chain may create as many as 16,000 permanent jobs. This includes operations and maintenance, manufacturing, supply chain logistics, and green hydrogen/ammonia production jobs.

Nevertheless, Jenny and I heard complaints about the proposal pretty regularly. At the same time, we couldn't help but notice the province's economic challenges. It was disheartening to learn that a significant portion of the population lives in low-income conditions, well below the Canadian national average. The limited job opportunities, particularly in rural areas, seem to exacerbate the financial hardship experienced by many residents, making it difficult for them to make ends meet.

We spoke with a motel owner in Corner Brook who shared a poignant story about his three kids, referring to them as "economic refugees," because they had all “moved away to cities on the mainland” to find work. This story echoed what we were told by many other Newfoundlanders; apart from two individuals we encountered who had one or two kids living in St John's, everyone else we spoke to mentioned that their children had left Newfoundland and Labrador to seek better opportunities elsewhere.

As outsiders, we can't help but worry about the long-term implications of the exodus of young people on the province's future. The loss of skilled, youthful workers can have far-reaching consequences, affecting the demographic composition, local economy, and overall vitality of communities. It became clear to us that efforts to retain young talent and attract newcomers are crucial for the province's long-term sustainability and growth.

So, as much as we understand the pushback by residents who are mistrustful of this idea, yet still deeply love Newfoundland and Labrador for the beauty of the land and the rugged self-reliance of its people, we believe they should rise to the challenge at hand and work together with government and industry to build a brighter future for their province. We sincerely hope to return one day and witness Newfoundland and Labrador thriving with a vibrant economy and opportunities for all its residents, including its younger generations.

Jenny watches the sunset from a motel window in Daniel’s Harbour.

It would be exciting to watch Newfoundland become a significant player in the global clean energy economy, and it could certainly attract jobs and a renewed vitality to a beautiful place with atrophying industries. While challenges remain, Newfoundland and Labrador’s bold vision for a renewable energy future offers a model for other regions seeking to diversify their economies and combat climate change. Newfoundland and Labrador is truly a province of foresight. Let’s hope they succeed and we can learn from them.

Our bikes on a boardwalk in Gros Morne Park at Shallow Bay near the town of Cow Head.

Consequently, we were pleased to learn that a second wind-to-green hydrogen company in St. John's recently announced a German buyer for its ammonia, a first among the Newfoundland companies competing in this space. A deal with the German energy firm Mabanaft places Pattern Energy ahead of World Energy GH2 in the race for foreign markets. The agreement is currently limited to a letter of intent as Mabanaft does its due diligence and Pattern refines the project's financial model (expected to cost about $1.5 billion). At 300 megawatts of wind power, the Pattern project is the smallest of the proposals in Newfoundland and Labrador. In contrast, the World Energy GH2 project on the Port au Port Peninsula is about 13 times larger. Pattern is also the only company proposing to build its project on private land within the Port of Argentia. While other companies have talked about the potential for ammonia to be turned back into hydrogen and used as the clean fuel of the future, Pattern is content to sell ammonia for the sake of ammonia. Mabanaft views ammonia itself as a transition fuel, not just a carrier of hydrogen.

Epilogue

Mountains across Western Brook Park in Gros Morne Provincial Park.

People all over the world are reeling from the mounting costs and suffering wrought by our overheating world. And it’s going to get worse before it gets better. The latest forecast from the World Meteorological Association (WMO) indicates an 80 percent likelihood that the annual average global temperature will temporarily exceed 1.5°C above pre-industrial levels for at least one full year of the next five. These discouraging figures underscore the urgent need for robust, science-based policies among world leaders to address the climate crisis head-on. Yet, in the face of this unfolding catastrophe, many of our current leaders cling to woefully inadequate measures that fail to meet the scale and severity of our challenge. Something can always be done, especially in democracies where one has the right to vote.

Consider the Presidential race in the United States. Democrats passed the most significant climate bill in US history (the Inflation Reduction Act) during the Biden administration, which will continue to have support under Kamala Harris. Yet, Trump says he will repeal it. The Republican party’s denial of science in this day and age is profoundly disturbing. Currently, 97% to 99% of climate scientists agree that climate change is happening and that human activity is the primary cause. In contrast, the U.S. House of Representatives includes 40 times as many climate science deniers as are found among the authors of scientific articles.

It’s not too different in Alberta, Canada, where big oil economic interests and climate science denial also shapes the province’s policy landscape. Many Alberta politicians, most notably Premier Danielle Smith, have vehemently opposed Canadian federal climate policies, criticizing federal clean energy regulations as absurd, illogical, unconstitutional, and unscientific. It's the same everywhere: where big oil money talks, common sense walks...

We met Victor in Port Saunders while packing groceries into our bicycle panniers. He pulled up on a weathered ATV, hauling an old wooden trailer full of wood, tools, and gas containers. Very friendly, and with a thick accent of Irish brogue and Canadian twang that we could only half understand, he told us he used to be a fisherman but now he lives on $600 a month he gets from the government. He said it’s not enough to survive and certainly not enough to pay for rent. Victor’s life is hardscrabble, but his one comfort and lifeline is his trusty ATV. He referred to her as “she” and called her his prostitute, “Cause I 'ave ta pay so damn much money ta keep 'er runnin', I do.” Victor then took us by surprise by lecturing us (once he learned we were from the States) about Donald Trump’s ethics. He referred to the Inside Hollywood tapes of Trump talking about what he would do to a woman’s…. well, he wouldn’t even say the word! But then he went on, “‘Ow could a man who was found guilty of sexual assault be elected as President? Dat's absolutely mental, it is!" A man with firm convictions and lots of common sense, we agreed with most everything Victor said (that we could understand). Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Yet, our politics in the States gets even weirder. Republicans have a massive and well-developed agenda for global warming. As Emily Atkinson writes in Heated on Substack (August 26), it boils down to three words: “Let it rip.” She goes on: “The Republican climate agenda is summarized nicely in Project 2025, the notorious 900-page policy plan developed for Donald Trump by the conservative Heritage Foundation. It proposes gutting the Environmental Protection Agency and its climate regulations, re-opening the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge for drilling, defunding the nationwide transition to renewable energy, and eliminating environmental justice initiatives. In addition, political appointees serving under Trump “will have to eradicate climate change references from absolutely everywhere”—because, as we know, ignoring a problem helps fix it. Overall, Project 2025 is a veritable smorgasbord of “burn it all down,” and it aligns squarely with Trump’s own actions and pledges.”

Ignoring overwhelming scientific evidence and consensus is not just misguided; it's morally bankrupt and irresponsible, particularly in the face of such obvious and indisputable evidence. Ignoring extreme weather events is a flagrant gamble with the lives and livelihoods of millions, the stability of the global economy, and the very habitability of the only planet we call home. As these ever-growing multi-billion dollar disasters make painfully clear, Americans and Canadians can no longer afford to indulge those who put short-term profits and political expediency over the safety and well-being of our communities. The catastrophic losses we're already experiencing are a mere preview of the unimaginable human suffering, ecological devastation, and economic havoc to come if we fail to act with the boldness and urgency demanded by science.

Our path forward could not be more starkly vivid. We can choose to heed these unmistakable warning signs and launch an all-out mobilization to slash emissions, transition to clean energy, and bolster our resilience in the face of unavoidable climate shocks to come. Or we can condemn ourselves and future generations to an ever-escalating onslaught of climate mega-disasters that will make today's $billion+ calamities woefully insignificant by comparison. Let us pray we choose wisely for the sake of ourselves, our children, and generations yet to be born. The hour is late, and time is not on our side.

A shot of Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, from the ferry on our return.

Stay vigilant! Thanks for reading. If you haven’t done so, please subscribe to this blog to follow our next biking trip.

Blog writing by Michael Chase. Drawings by Jenny Hershey. Unless otherwise noted, all material is the copyrighted property of the blog post authors, including all photographs and drawings.

Jennifer Hershey’s drawings can be enjoyed on Instagram @deeofo.

We first met Gary on his 81st day of walking across Canada between Nipigon and Thunder Bay, Ontario, during our May 2024 cycling trip around Lake Superior. At the time, Gary explained he was walking from Vancouver to St John’s, Newfoundland, to raise money for a cause he was passionate about. Jokingly, Jenny said, “Maybe we’ll see you there; we’re going to Newfoundland in September.” On Day 162 of his transcontinental hike, we met him again. We were biking toward Port aux Basque to catch a ferry back to the mainland on Trans-Canada Highway 1, just south of Corner Brook, NL. We had been following Gary on social media, so we thought our paths might cross. We brought him a huge sandwich and fresh fruit, exchanged travel stories, and then went our separate ways. Gary was on his third pair of hiking boots, and Jenny was on her oldest touring bicycle. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Michael Johnson-Chase 6/28/24 Michael Johnson-Chase 6/28/24

The Intimacy of Nature: Biking Northern Lake Superior

Writing by Michael Chase, Drawings by Jenny Hershey

Heather is a member of the great Ojibwe Nation. She lives in Grand Portage, MN, on the Grand Portage Reservation near the US/Canada border of Lake Superior. Heather, whose Ojibwe name is Gizhiiwe, was born and raised in the Gichi-onigamiing Ishkonigam (the Ojibwe name for the reservation lands), and she manages a marina next to a campground. The marina, campground, and a nearby casino are all owned and managed by the Ojibwe Reservation. Heather is raising four daughters, a friend’s son, and a niece. A hardworking woman who has experienced many joys and sorrows, her kids are her biggest joy. Heather still grieves over the loss of her twin boys, who were the unfortunate victims of physical violence by their father toward Heather when she was pregnant. Her personal resilience and support for other women who are victims of abuse helps her to heal.

We asked Heather if she had noticed changes in the weather over the years. She answered, “Not only have winters gotten warmer and warmer, there’s a lot less wildlife than a few decades back when I was a child.” Then her father, sitting nearby, added, “They used to keep to themselves, but now the black bears come out of the forest hungrier than they used to in the Spring to search for food. Now they are more aggressive - they can even open a car door!” Jenny asked Heather what worries her at night, and she said neither of the two old men running for president understood the real issues of native Americans. And she also worries about warmer winters decreasing the moose population and ruining the tribal custom of partridge hunting. Jenny asked Heather about her tattoos. She pointed to her chin, “This means, ‘She speaks Truth’. The two dots on the top of my checks stand for two perspectives …because there is always more than one.”

“As the environment changes, you should expect to change too. It is the job of your brain to model the world as it is. And the world is mutating.“

Clayton Page Aldrin, from “THE WEIGHT OF NATURE; How a Changing Climate Changes our Brains,” published by Penguin Random House, 2024

Some years ago, while transitioning from a theatre professor to a climate activist, I took a hiking vacation (by car) with a companion to the Tombstone Mountains in Canada's Yukon territory east of Alaska. Along the way, we decided to camp north of Whitehorse near some hot springs. We were setting up a tent when I noticed two older men ride up to a nearby campsite on bicycles. Their bikes were heavily loaded with gear, and the men seemed tired but happy. After a few more moments struggling with my tent, I looked back at their site, and to my astonishment, two small tents were up, the bikes were leaning against a tree, and the men were nowhere to be seen. I was puzzled about how they got there and where they were going. The only paved road I knew about in the Yukon out of Whitehorse was a section of the Alaska Highway on the way to Dawson City, which was bikable but ended at Fairbanks. The Dempster Highway was another choice some 50 miles or so to the east of Dawson, a northward-bound mix of pavement and gravel that passes through the Tombstone Mountains as it winds its way up to the edge of the American Continent and ends at the Beaufort Sea, part of the mighty Arctic Ocean.

An hour or so later, I found the men relaxing at a pool fed by natural hot springs that offered a refreshing respite from the chilly air. I started conversing with one of the men, who introduced himself as Don. He looked weather-beaten and sturdy like an old oak tree, maybe in his mid-seventies. I asked him if they had come a long distance. “We’re returning to Juneau, where John and I live, he said, gesturing to his slighter counterpart. “I want to get there in time for July 4th. Gotta party with my family and friends.” “Where are you coming from?” I asked. Don deftly pulled himself out of the pool, dug through a pack nearby, and brought out a map. He pointed. I could see a road in the eastern part of the Yukon that began at Whitehorse. “There,” he said. “We did that loop.” I could see a triangle made of several roads that started at Whitehorse and ended there, but they still had to get back to Juneau, about 250 miles south of Whitehorse. As far as I could figure, they had just biked several hundred miles on unpaved roads, mostly in areas without services, which would total out to a trip of 700 miles or more in very rugged country.

My head was spinning. These old guys did that? (Then I could too!) Don went on, “I’ve lived in Juneau my whole life. Great town, fantastic country right out your door. I used to backpack all over. But now I'm older I don't like to carry a pack anymore. So I let the bike do it. All I gotta do is pedal and not fall over.” As I was thinking that over, Don added, “And it's every bit as intimate an experience with nature as backpacking is. I still have to deal with everything that Mother Nature offers up. I get to experience it all on my bicycle. Only difference is the bike is hauling my stuff.”

A map of our journey; Jenny and I originally intended to bike around Lake Superior. However, we were forced to stop at Schreiber, Ontario, and head back to Thunder Bay because Jenny had developed a bruised pubic bone from a seat that wasn’t working out (…a common problem for women who bicycle long distance). Jenny needed both rest and to change her saddle, an option about 150 miles to the west or 500 miles to the east. Chalk up our mistake to the unfortunate consequence of traveling on new bicycles we hadn't already subjected to challenging conditions. We write more about the new bikes below.

Intimacy with Nature. What does that feel like?

It can feel like a lot of things: the smell of soil after a hard rain, the shape of a hill you are trying to walk or bike up, the wind as you descend, the scream of a hawk, the song of a warbler, tall grass grazing your legs as you walk to the lakeshore. But even more central to our experience of nature is weather. That is all around us: it's visual, tactile, olfactory, auditory. Its coldness can give you energy and kill you, and its heat can make you tired and kill you. It can be so dry you can't stop craving liquid, your skin dries out and your lips crack and bleed, or so wet you forget to drink and you feel as though insects are crawling around your torso while your skin shrivels like a prune. Or you can feel the sublime relaxation and letting go into perfect conditions, neither too hot nor cold, too humid nor too dry, as light delights your eye and lulls you into momentary contentment.

A view of Lake Superior near Rossport, north of Thunder Bay, Ontario.

Friend or foe, weather envelopes us. The experience of it is always intimate, making us feel many things, but above all, bringing us to right here, right now. And all other experiences flow from that. Think of a cherished outdoor memory, perhaps even an indoor one. As you reconstruct the memory, do you remember what the weather was like? Odds are very high that you do, and with considerable clarity. But weather is not climate. Weather just transpires, and it is the panorama behind all our experiences. Some psychologists and neuroscientists think that weather is the “skeleton of memory” because it is so fundamental to human experience.

Canada Geese in the distance looking toward Pie Island from Mission Island just off Thunder Bay, Ontario.

Climate, in contrast, is a construct of the human mind. Climate is the measurement - or for most of humankind simply imperical evidence - of weather in a particular place over time. A mental model, climate represents how humans think something works in the real world. So a "dynamic mental model" of the climate involves imagining - or studying - how this complex system works, with many interrelated variables changing over time based on various forces and feedback loops. It's a way of visualizing and making sense of ever-shifting systems that have historically changed at a rate unnoticeable to most humans yet are now speeding up. Fast.

To test this out ask yourself, “How does the climate feel?” And then ask yourself, “How does the weather feel?” The latter question is definitely easier to answer. We feel the weather, we count on the climate. Or at least we used to. Now the climate is changing so fast we are much less able to predict it. And interestingly, losing our capacity to predict means we know less about the future because we can no longer rely on the past to be our guide. In a curious way, this is a kind of forgetting the future, almost as if climate change is giving us reverse amnesia.

Storm clouds brewing on a summit on the iconic Trans-Canada Highway 17 approaching Schreiber, Ontario.

The Climate is like the stock market; it makes us happiest when it's predictable and very uncomfortable when it isn't. And it's becoming less and less predictable.

Even if you are lucky not to have noticed, hundreds of millions of people (including those who follow climate records) have been subjected to and astonished by a dizzying cascade of record-breaking temperature increases over the past year. Average global temperatures have hit unprecedented highs for the last 12 months, from April 2023 to April 2024. Then, to make it a baker’s dozen, May 2024 just concluded the warmest month in recorded history! And, if you’ve been paying attention, or you live in India (126F), Africa (Sudan, 122F), the Mideast (Kuwait: 128.5F, Iran: 159.3F, Saudi Arabia 111.2F), or North America (Mexico, 125.6F), and the American Southwest (122F), the Midwest (98F) or the Northeast (98F), you have good reason to believe that global temperaturesres for June are likely to eclipse May. Records are being broken not only for how hot it gets but for how long that heat endures. Already this year, India has experienced the country’s most prolonged hot spell on record, spanning 24 days in April and May. And Greece is currently in its third week of deadly heat, less than a year after experiencing a record-breaking 16-day heat wave. It’s not as if climate scientists didn’t see worsening impacts coming, but they are indeed surprised by their ferocity. And now, at 2.34F (1.3C) of total average warming beyond pre-industrial levels, we are being forced to reckon with a planetary climate system that is becoming increasingly turbulent, mercurial and downright dangerous.

Of course, there's only one way out: stop burning fossil fuels. (It's interesting to contemplate the inevitable time when the burning of fossil fuels for our energy needs will be a distant memory. But I'm getting ahead of myself…)

Jenny met Tim in Nipigon Bay, Ontario, as he loaded groceries onto his bicycle outside the only market in town. An avid cyclist and “Warmshowers Host,” Tim mentioned he was hosting a cyclist that evening who was halfway through a biking trip from Vancouver, BC, to St. Johns, Newfoundland (about 5,000 miles). “Maybe we wanted to come by and meet him”? Tim added that he had worked as a forest technician at Ontario’s Ministry of Natural Resources. Jenny eagerly accepted. We enjoyed meeting the cyclist Ben and were very impressed by his gentle determination. Clearly, he was going to make it all the way. And we were fascinated by Tim’s career. Except for a short stint in BC, Tim focused on Ontario forests for his entire career, designating, designing, and approving logging areas and procedures used by private companies to harvest timber. Interestingly, the Crown owns the land in Canada, and private companies lease land for resource extraction. Over the years, Tim has seen the weather change a great deal. Winters are increasingly shorter and dryer, summers are longer and hotter and vacillate between extreme dryness and wetness. Along with every other local we queried about the weather, Tim quickly mentioned that this past winter was the warmest he'd ever experienced. The only precipitation was rain. When the one snowstorm of the winter of 2024 finally came, it was mid-May, and the snow disappeared in a few days. Correspondingly, the ice pack on Lake Superior set a new record as the most diminished in recorded history.

Back to Lake Superior

I once took a road trip with my ex-wife from Denver to Toronto for a professional engagement. We drove the northern route around Lake Superior from Duluth through Thunder Bay, Nipigon, and down through Sault Ste. Marie to Toronto. My memories are very general, mainly limited to lovely or rainy weather and my fascination with the seemingly endless forest of what I thought were scrappy and smallish trees as a result of the harsh Ontario winters. (I have since learned that such characteristics can also come from logging practices, erosion snd slope orientations, and wind.) And strangely absent from my memories are the extraordinary hills on the Ontario side and the magnificent highland views along the north shore of the Trans-Canada Highway from Nipigon to Sault Ste. Marie.

The Pays Plat First Nation, a small First Nation Ojibwe reserve community located in Canada near Rossport, Ontario, erected this sign. Anishinabae is an umbrella term that encompasses several tribes, including the Ojibwe, who have their own distinct identity within a larger group. This is the same clan that lives on the Grand Portage Reservation in Minnesota. Like many Indigenous people in other countries, the national boundaries of Canada and the United States were formed with little regard for their regional homeland.

This biking trip, in contrast, has offered Jenny and me a very intimate experience of this region. Traveling along Lake Superior on a bicycle has deepened our understanding of the landscape and its inhabitants far more deeply than driving through it ever could. After years of long-distance bicycle riding, I've come to believe that our relationship with place becomes less intimate the more hermetically protected we are from the weather. And, as exciting and useful as speeding up can be, traveling faster than human senses can assimilate results in a shallower experience of our environment. In other words, the faster we go, the less we experience. The same might be said for life in general.

About 60 miles northeast of Thunder Bay, on our way to Schreiber, Ontario, we rode into Red Rock, a lovely small fishing village on Nipigon Bay facing three small islands. Looking for a grocery store and lodging, we found ourselves at the Red Rock Inn, an old hotel built in the 1930s. The proprietor, Don, was raised down the street, and as a child he and his family lived in the Inn for a while. While living there, Don discovered an extensive library of Hardy Boy novels that he read voraciously. Today, on the bedside tables in every room is a Hardy Boys novel and, as Don says, “To be politically correct,” a Nancy Drew novel as well. Don moved away from Red Rock when he went to college and spent the next 40 years in the States, building multiple yacht dealerships on the Gulf Coast, primarily in Florida. Then, about nine years ago, he sold his businesses, moved back home, and took on the challenge of bringing the Red Rock Inn back to life. The place is chock full of memorabilia, antiques, and much artwork (Don’s mother and his second wife were artists, and many of their works are on display). There is also a surprising number of paintings by the Group of Seven, once known as the Algonquin School, a group of Canadian landscape painters from 1920 to 1933 with similar visions. Believing that a distinct Canadian art could be developed through direct contact with nature, the Group of Seven is best known for its paintings inspired by the Canadian landscape. When we asked Don if he had noticed any differences in the weather over the years, he responded, “Of course, winters used to be much more intense and lasted much longer. And there was no snow last winter until one small storm in May! And I could see open water out there.” Don gestured toward Lake Superior, “Our weather is really crazy now.”

The Winters are Warmer

Minnesota is famously known as the land of 10,000 lakes, but it actually has 11,842 lakes that are at least 10 acres or larger. Michigan (which we didn't visit this trip because of our change in plans) is equally known for its abundance of lakes, with approximately 11,000 inland lakes and 3,288 miles of lake shoreline (eclipsed in the US only by Alaska). Ontario, in contrast, contains an even more impressive number of lakes - over 250,000 - that collectively account for about 20% of the world’s freshwater supply. Tragically, every one of these lakes is experiencing shorter winters with accelerating losses of ice cover, a trend that has gained speed over the past few decades. Ice duration on the Great Lakes alone has declined by 31 days on average since weather records began around 1865, while ice cover on Lake Superior has decreased by a factor of six over the past 25 years. More than 15,000 lakes in the Northern Hemisphere that historically have frozen every winter for as long as can be remembered now experience ice-free winters. This trend in ice loss is forecasted to continue, and scientists estimate that the remaining lakes with ice cover will lose an additional 10 to 40 days over the next decade alone, yet another manifestation of our rapidly changing climate.

Jenny stands by her bicycle in front of the Red Rock Inn. Somewhat frozen in time, this hotel reminded us of a benign cousin of the Overlook Hotel in “The Shining.”

The Water is Warmer

The loss of ice on the many lakes in the Great Lakes region is far from the only result of global warming. Like our oceans, increasing atmospheric temperatures drive the average temperature of inland lakes upward. Lake Superior is among the world's fastest-warming freshwater bodies. Below are some average yearly temperatures for the lake:

1910, 39F
1950, 41F
1990, 43F
2020, 57F

Note the rate of increase in average water temperature from the 30 years from 1990 to 2020 is significantly steeper than any 40 years prior! Lake Superior has long enjoyed a reputation for its unspoiled water, but that is diminishing as the decades progress. Although algae blooms were non-existent on Lake Superior a century ago, increases in average water temperatures are now creating fertile conditions for their growth. Unlike Lake Erie and Green Bay in Lake Michigan - warmer, shallower, and surrounded by sources of agricultural runoff - Lake Superior has remained cold, deep, and nutrient-poor until recent decades. However, algae blooms have now appeared on the lake in a recreational stretch from Duluth to the Apostle Islands. Because there is neither significant nitrogen pollution from agriculture nor significant urbanization, these blooms are driven by increasingly warmer water temperatures. Among undesirable impacts on recreational activity, such blooms deplete oxygen and create toxins that are harmful to fish, other aquatic life, and humans. They are not a good sign for things to come.

The Kakabeka Falls on the Kaministiquia River, about 20 miles west of Thunder Bay, is the second-highest waterfall in Ontario. With a drop of 150 feet, the falls have carved out a deep gorge over millions of years. The falls are also famous for the Ojibwe legend of Green Mantle, a Chief's daughter who sacrificed herself to save her people. When an Ojibwe chief learned of an impending attack from the Sioux tribe, he asked his daughter, Princess Green Mantle, for help. She went to the Sioux camp, pretending to be lost, and offered to lead them to her father’s camp in exchange for her life. However, instead of leading them to safety, she guided the Sioux warriors over Kakabeka Falls, where they met their demise, as did Green Mantle. Legend has it that the mist of the falls is Green Mantle’s spirit, a testament to her selfless act.

Whether you believe it or not, our atmosphere is warming up, fast.

So what hope is there? Have we passed the point of no return where our climate will spin out of control no matter what we do? Many people think not. If you are hard-headed enough to accept reality (unlike those who buy into fossil fuel propaganda and either deny climate change outright or minimize what science is telling us), you must learn to hold two competing truths in your mind simultaneously. One is that our situation is difficult and we are going to suffer losses and disruptions. The other is that things are changing rapidly for the better and we have significant reason to believe that we can slow down, and ultimately stop, the climate crisis.

Sunny Skies Ahead For Clean Energy?

At the same time climate change is accelerating, so is the global transition to clean energy. A recent report by the International Energy Agency (IEA), a globally focused non-partisan energy security NGO led by 31 countries, indicates that the world’s economies have shifted away capital investments in fossil fuel energy to clean energy sources by a factor of two in about ten years. Investments in fossil fuel projects will soon be in our rearview mirror, and it seems that before long they will be a dust trail.

All signs are that clean energy funding worldwide will go above the $2 trillion mark for the first time before this year ends, an amount greater than the GDP for all but 10 countries. In the US alone, clean energy spending is predicted to increase to $315 billion, compared to $280 billion in 2023. Much of the investment comes from the 2021 bipartisan infrastructure bill and the 2022 Inflation Reduction Act. In spite of right wing media hype, capital investments in clean energy are likely to remain robust in Red States because the geography of these states is more conducive to the production of wind and solar power.

Globally, clean energy costs are plummeting. Renewable energy investments now go more than twice as far in terms of energy output than a decade ago, plus clean energy investment has gotten a boost from the growing number of countries that have adopted emissions reductions goals in recent years. Most investment is currently flowing to solar projects, which are projected to attract more clean energy investment than all other power generation sources combined in 2024, including fossil fuels. The rise of solar power has also sparked significant additional investment in energy storage and grid capacity worldwide. Battery storage alone is expected to exceed $50 billion in investments this year, more than double what was spent in 2022.

Our new bikes, fully loaded with our gear. We are proud to be pioneering long-distance travel on e-bikes. Since my first two cross-country biking trips were on a traditional road bike, I can speak to the pros and cons of electric pedal-assist bikes. One can get quite a workout (and increase one's range considerably), and one can be pretty lazy for shorter distances. There are e-bikes with throttles that can be ridden without pedaling, but one’s range is limited. Besides, why lose the workout? These bikes were manufactured by the German company Reise and Muller and feature Bosch motors, the major supplier of electric motors to Merdedes Benz. Although somewhat challenging to find in the States, we obtained our Reise and Muller bicycles through a bike store in Brooklyn called Propel Bikes. We like them a lot!

A few afternoon thunderstorms

Yet, there are some storm clouds ahead for global clean energy investment. While the record-high investment is a promising sign for the future of clean energy, spending is not distributed equally. Most of the investment is in China, the United States, and the European Union while developing economies make up only about 15% of this spending. This must shift to successfully transition the world from fossil fuels fast enough to meet global climate goals. Total investment in clean energy not only needs to double by 2030 to meet COP28 goals, it needs to quadruple in developing economies. But overall, the news is good. Capitalism is finally turning away from fossil fuels and toward a more livable future.

We ran into Gary Grono on highway 17 between Red Rock and Thunder Bay. We were biking south, and he was WALKING north. He was an odd site, walking against the traffic on the Trans-Canada highway (in a new section that is a four-lane freeway), pulling a two-wheeled cart with handles behind him. Gary was in his 81st day of a trek across Canada from Victoria, British Columbia, to St Johns, Newfoundland (almost 5000 miles), and is raising money for the Andean Institute, an organization in Maras, Peru, that “builds community and supports Andean culture”. Gary was affable and talkative, so we shared war stories about our travels. Many of Gary’s stories seemed more intense than ours. Jenny had gotten a tick bite earlier on this trip (not her first time) and took doxycycline immediately as a preventative measure. Gary, on the other hand, told us a harrowing tale about being attacked in the evening as the sun was setting by an army of ticks that got into his tent and infiltrated his clothing and sleeping bag. Several weeks later after discovering a tick that had made himself at home, Gary found an urgent care clinic and started a strong regimen of antibiotics. We were impressed with Gary’s commitment and resilience. He camps most nights, and only occasionally stops at a motel to wash his clothes, shower, and sleep in the comfort of a bed. He loved our bicycles and our rigs, calling them a luxury set up. We were amused; our perspective is that we are spartan in what we carry. We learned that Gary had little power left on his phone because he only uses a solar panel mounted on the back of his hiking trailer. Because it had been overcast and rainy for two days, Jenny offered him the temporary use of a portable battery to give his phone a boost. Gary hopes to meet his wife, Wendy, in Newfoundland in September. We had already been thinking about biking in Newfoundland in September so we hope to meet them both in the future. With Jenny’s help, Gary was finally able to charge his phone enough to communicate with his daughters, who manage his Facebook page. You can find him at @Gary Grono.

Postscript

I have written every post on an iPhone since I began this blog site in 2017 (some 125+ posts ago). On a bicycle, weight and packing volume matter, so I shipped my laptop home early on my first cross-country trip. It’s slow, painstaking work to write on an iPhone, but I’ve grown used to it, and, to my surprise have come to prefer it.

Some months ago, the platform I used to host this blog site (Squarespace) released a new mobile editor. It is much simpler than its older editor; I like it except for one feature - it doesn’t contain the capacity to create links. As you may know, I am not a fan of misinformation. In my last post, I used the regular Squarespace editor through a website as a workaround to create links to my sources. But on this trip, I discovered that capability had also been removed. I’m shocked Squarespace’s programmers would do this; about half the world has computing abilities on a smartphone ONLY. Linking is ubiquitous in email, so why remove it from a blog site? I may be forced to leave Squarespace, but I cannot evaluate that now while biking. I accepted the situation a few weeks ago and decided my writing might improve by embracing this limitation. For some time, I have wanted my non-fiction writing to be less academic and more vivid. I’d be very grateful for any thoughts you, dear reader, might have. Do you miss the links? I’d appreciate hearing your thoughts by email or in the comments section at the end of this post.

We met Chuck in Covill, about 20 miles northeast of Grand Marais, Minnesota. Like so many others who pass by, we couldn't help but notice the massive driftwood, rock, glass, primitive art, and random sculptures covering more than 200 feet in front of his home on Lake Superior (see inset picture). It’s taken Chuck 14 years to create this extraordinarily witty and ornate tribute to veterans, nature, and the human spirit. We were lucky enough to find Chuck outside, touching up some of his work with paint. Jenny asked Chuck, “Why the military references?” and he answered, “Its out of respect for my daughter and father who both served.” Jenny then asked, “Where does all the driftwood came from?” Chuck explained the lake washes up the driftwood in huge waves during big storms. We later learned that Chuck’s last name is Wiger, and he has been a Minnesota State Senator since 1997 for District 43 in the northeastern Twin Cities metro area. Chuck, a Democrat, has fought long and hard for clean energy, equal access to education for all and safer work conditions for healthcare workers. We were deeply touched by learning about the many sides of this kind, highly creative and compassionate man

Stay vigilant! Thanks for reading. If you haven’t done so, please subscribe to this blog to follow our next biking trip.

Blog writing by Michael Chase. Drawings by Jenny Hershey. Unless otherwise noted, all material is the copyrighted property of the blog post authors.

Jennifer Hershey’s drawings can be enjoyed on Instagram @deeofo.

Michael Johnson-Chase 4/4/24 Michael Johnson-Chase 4/4/24

The Peril of Inequality: Biking from Birmingham to Jacksonville

Writing by Michael Chase, Drawings by Jenny Hershey

We saw Linda sitting outside her home in Blakely, Georgia, as we rode by. Jenny complimented her beautiful flower garden. Linda replied, “It’s a mess, really. Just can’t seem to do much after my husband died a couple years ago.” Not one to miss out on a conversation, Jenny stopped her bike and asked Linda about her life, learning that, like so many others in the deep South, Linda has lived in Blakely her entire life. She first worked in a sewing factory, adding, “Not many white folk worked there.” Then, a few years later Linda got a job as a peanut inspector at the Blakely Golden Peanut Factory. She loved that job and worked there for over 28 years. Linda told Jenny that she had no problems living in Blakely, and then she cupped her hand over her mouth like she was going to share a secret, and whispered, “Except for some of the black folks on the other side by Washington Street—they drink a lot and shoot guns. They’re in gangs!” “Gangs?” Jenny replied. Linda dropped her hand, and added, “Now don’t get me wrong. My neighbor’s black and I don’t hear a peep out of her. And the preacherman who lives behind me is black, and he’s a decent man.” When Jenny asked Linda if she was going to vote, she perked up, “Yup, I wouldn’t miss it for nothin!” … and said nothing more. Jenny decided not to ask…

“We pretty much own rural and small town America.”

Mitch McConnell

We biked from Birmingham to Jacksonville this trip. Although we enjoyed all of it, the highlights were the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, the Legacy Museum in Montgomery, and the Okefenokee Swamp Park in southeast Georgia.

At a dinner party in New York City the week before we left for this trip, I was asked where we were going. When I replied, “We’re going to ride our bikes from Birmingham to Jacksonville,” the response was immediate. “Oh my God! Well, say hi to that idiotic judge in Alabama who thinks that unfertilized embryos are living humans, and that whiny Senator who tried to backpedal that judge’s crap on television from her fake kitchen.” As much as I sympathized with the content of both comments, the vitriol of the subtext took me aback: it was as if I was really being asked, “Why are you going there, of all places?”

I remember feeling slightly irritated by the insinuation. After all, Jenny and I are both life-long Democrats who grew up in Democratic households. We live in New York, and both had successful careers in the theatre. So it’s a fair guess that Jenny and I don’t choose to bike in the Southeast because we connect to the political culture.

But we do like how easy it is to get to some of the major cities in the South and back home to New York City by train. We are drawn to the warmer weather during the winter months, and the promise of vast stretches of roads unburdened by traffic that allow us to take in landscapes and wildlife as we reflect on the cultural, economic and political tapestries of the people we encounter. The South, in particular, offers up rolling hills, tranquil forests, scenic countryside roads, abundant bird life, and the same tragic and weirdly interesting industrial degradation one can find anywhere in America. For the most part, the inhabitants are folksy and sometimes surprisingly diverse. We also enjoy the affordable motels (especially during the off-seasons) and the overt friendliness, of most, although not all, of the locals we encounter.

Yet, there is something deeper that motivates us to return to the American South over and over again. Jenny and I are both affable and curious, and we are always interested in trying to understand why people see things the way they do. Although Jenny has lived her entire life on the East Coast, I was born in Iowa and raised in Galesburg, Illinois, a mid-sized farming town north of Peoria in the 1960’s. Predictably, Galesburg fit the era: I was a white kid, and we didn’t easily mix with the black kids, although there was a significant black community on the other side of town. Racism was insidious and implicit, and the civil rights victories in the South seemed far away because in Illinois, white folks had deluded themselves into thinking that they weren’t racist. Dislike of migrants, unless they were European born, was the norm. Homophobia was accepted and encouraged, while gayness was viewed as a perverse illness. Transgender? Forget about it; that was too weird for anybody (or so we thought, although in retrospect I’m sure I interacted with quietly suffering, closeted people). Because my Dad was a New England born professor at the local college our family never really fit in, although my Mom softened the suspicion of locals because she was approachable and talkative, even though she came from Denver. And just like now, most of the higher achieving students chose to leave. Although we weren’t particularly stellar students at the time, my two brothers and I took it for granted we would leave Galesburg at the soonest opportunity.

So it's not such a big leap for me to connect to a nostalgic affinity with my childhood years while biking in the rural south. And Jenny, who was raised in New Haven, Connecticut, during the 1960’s and was bused across town as a middle school student during some of the first desegregation experiments, also had a live-in black nanny who was the daughter of sharecroppers from Camden, North Carolina. And now, Jenny often says she feels more at home in communities of people of color in the rural south (small towns in the South tend to be either largely black or largely white) than she does in less diverse white middle-class suburban areas.

Cory delightedly shows off his catch, a “Sweet Crappie” he caught near Fort Gaines, Georgia. Cory had just moved to this town from nearby Edison. He works hard mowing the fields under a solar panel farm in Bluffton, a new job created by expanding renewable energy installations. Cory’s love of fishing came from his Grannie, but he will share this lucky haul with his Mama for Sunday dinner. Cory lives alone, and he’s glad for the connection. Jenny asked Cory if he planned on voting in the coming election. “Oh no, I don’t believe in that. I’m just gonna pray—and pray hard. God made us all free men. And that’s all I need. Don’t need nothing else.”

The slow, steady decline of so much of the rural south is a decades-old story that, with some exceptions, mirrors what has happened everywhere in rural America. We were a highly agricultural country at the time of our founding; more than 90% of our country lived in rural areas in 1790. The landscape, economy and cultural life were dominated by agriculture, and most Americans were farmers or lived in small towns closely tied to farming communities. By 1920, the number of Americans living on farms had dwindled to under 50%. However, people in small towns, who could no longer find work in agriculture, were still able to secure jobs in rapidly expanding extraction industries - such as mining and logging.

Today, the picture is vastly different. Urbanization has swept across the country, and over 80% of all Americans now reside in urban areas. The steady flow of people from rural areas has created a slow-motion train wreck for rural areas as technological advancements have steadily eroded labor needs in the countryside. In addition, corporate consolidation has shifted ownership of family farms, grocery stores, gas stations, feed lots, and even local medical care from individual owners and families to rapaciously capitalistic corporations located primarily in cities.

An abandoned laundromat in Damascus, Georgia.

Everywhere in rural America, the story is similar. Small family farms are bought out and vast tracks of land are consolidated into large industrial agricultural corporations. Mom and Pop stores, if they haven’t already closed, are eclipsed by Dollar Generals, Family Dollars and Dollar Trees, although residents in smaller towns now must drive a town or two away to get to the most local Dollar store, depending on marketing realities. And then those stores sometimes close based solely on market calculations; Family Dollar just announced they are closing multiple stores in rural Ohio, putting almost 300 people out of work. Larger towns are lucky to get Walmarts, which offer an abundance of food choices at reasonably low prices, while they virtually guarantee the closure of locally owned grocery stores. As populations dwindle, country doctors shut their doors and seek employment in larger towns with private medical facilities. At the same time, small health clinics get bought out by corporate chains and the median distances rural folks need to travel for health care continues to increase.

We met a very proud Van Averhart standing next to an historical marker in Happy Hollow, the oldest African-American neighborhood in Prattville, Alabama. When we asked him where he grew up, Van gestured toward a field behind him, “That’s where my family home was. Almost every home here was knocked down. The oldest thing in this here neighborhood now is that pear tree.” Van seemed to know every person who drove by. He said, “I’m an Averhart! It’s a big name in these parts!” Van was the town’s first African American firefighter EMT level 2. He did three tours of duty in a 25-year-long military career. Raised with 4 brothers and 3 sisters, he was taught to have a strong work ethic. Van is a die-hard Democrat and very attentive to politics. Jenny asked, “What do I need to know as a liberal Jew from NYC about the people of Prattville? “We’re friendly, we care, we like diversity”, Van replied. He paused, and then said, “But many black folks in town don’t want conflict with white people so they either don’t vote or they just vote with them.”

As much as politicians in municipal, state, and federal governments have fought these trends over the decades, very little has been accomplished by either party to mitigate technological advances and economic consolidation or to reinvent rural America as prosperous and healthy places to live. Yet, although Republicans haven’t helped rural communities any more effectively than Democrats, the Republican Party remains the preferred party of rural folks by far. The party’s dominance is probably much more grounded in cultural identity regarding beliefs around religion, gun rights, and family structures than in substantial policy disagreements among politicians from either party.

MAGA voters are overwhelmingly white and rural, and it's a fair guess that most don’t care much about policy. Fueling anger against Democrats is easier than discussing real solutions to difficult problems. In pursuit of votes, campaign contributions, media attention, and re-election, these politicians willfully exacerbate rural resentments. However, as you can tell from some of our stories, not everyone takes the bait. Yet, it seems that more often than not, if people aren't prone to MAGA-baiting politicians, and they aren't older black folks who lived through the civil rights era, then they don't connect to voting at all.

We met Officer Jason B at the Freedom Monument Sculpture Park in Montgomery. Although the park wasn’t going to open for another week, it honors the lives and memories of the 10 million people who were enslaved in America. Jason’s job was to explain to visitors at the front gate that they couldn’t go in. When Jenny asked Jason, “How does it feel to work at such an important park?,” Jason answered, “Oh, I don’t do the whole African-American history thing. I’m just not into it.” Behind Jason, we could see slave quarters that had beds from actual plantations. We could also see many large sculptures by black artists depicting slave life. We were puzzled by Jason’s indifference to his surroundings. When we asked him if he was going to vote, he replied, “Nah, wouldn’t do any good.” I said, “If you don’t vote, then older white people like me will be making decisions for you. You really want that?” To that he raised an eyebrow - food for thought, perhaps. Or maybe he was thinking, that’s how it will always be anyway.

When MAGA inspired manipulative behaviors do work, they exempt politicians from developing and implementing policies that will help rural communities. It’s much easier and far more effective for these politicians to frighten and anger their rural constituents into supporting them, than to earn their votes and trust by improving their everyday lives. But it doesn’t matter. Most of the time, rural communities reflexively support Republican candidates anyway.

After all, if neither party offers up any real solutions, why not vote for the party that most aligns with your values? And if that’s not enough to get you excited, the candidate who sticks it to your enemies - those elites on either coast who look down on you with such contempt… well, that’s worth supporting because it feels so good to get even. This is a form of blood sport for MAGA voters and politicians alike.

A home demolished by the 2023 tornado in Selma, Alabama, sits empty. We saw many more houses nearby in a similar state of disarray because of the tornado. Home of the famous Selma to Montgomery civil rights marches that began at the historic Edmund Pettus Bridge, Selma remains one of Alabama's poorest cities.

Selma is home to the National Voting Rights Museum. A fascinating museum, I was struck by George Wallace’s Presidential Campaign material, which reminds me of MAGA merchandise.

Many Americans would be surprised to learn what Mitch McConnell or Donald Trump will never tell you: beginning in 2008, the year Obama was elected President, per capita federal income assistance grew larger in rural areas than in cities, suggesting America’s “welfare class” is both whiter and more rural than the GOP wants you to think.

Initially driven by the first stimulus bill in response to the subprime mortgage meltdown, the Federal Government focused on higher poverty rates in rural areas and more extensive infrastructure and services over larger geographic areas. For example, income security programs such as Social Security, Medicare, and other forms of federal income support, including the SNAP program, now comprise a larger share of federal spending in rural areas than they do in suburban or urban areas. In addition, prosperity in cities effectively subsidize rural areas, most notably in states with higher per capita rates of federal taxes.

As we headed east toward the Okefenokee Swamp, we biked through Boston, Georgia (pop. 1223). Ron was sitting at an abandoned gas station that had most recently been a shuttered lawn mower service center. We stopped to chat and learned that 74-year-old Ron had spent his life working in cotton and peanut fields nearby as a laborer. He also raised five kids. His youngest boy works in the only food market in Boston, and his oldest is a mortician in the next town over. His daughters moved to bigger cities. Finally retired, Ron spends his day watching whatever passes by. He was so friendly that we felt ok asking him if he watched the news. He said, “I’m a lifelong Democrat, and I watch CNN every day.” A bit surprised, Jenny asked Ron his thoughts about the upcoming election. Ron said, “I don’t understand why folks say such bad stuff about Biden. He old, but lots of people are old. That don’t mean nothin’… give him time. He’s only been at this four years.”

Rural America still contributes significantly in its nostalgic salute to our nation’s political history and its cultural character. Politicians sing the praises of small and rural places, assuring voters that their communities are where the people are good, character is forged, and folks are self-reliant. Many in both parties tend to leave out the part about how they left to achieve their own ambitions. To demonstrate their authenticity, they’ll claim to be small-town folk, no matter where life took them, even putting a little extra drawl in their accents. But Republicans, in particular, know that when they really need the votes, the best way to get them is to amp up the culture war, telling voters that the next election—indeed, the fate of the country—is all about winning the war between unfairly treated, misunderstood, tax-burdened country folk against socialist democrat elitists who live in failing cities, want to take away your guns, and are bankrupting the government. It’s gonna be a bloodbath out there!

Ruby was born and raised in Fargo, Georgia (pop 250), in a “trailer” park. She pointed, “over there,” where her mother currently lives. She has five jobs cleaning properties on the edge of the Okefenokee National Wildlife Refuge and also cleans the local church. Her mother did the same job, but now her Mom and Ruby’s brothers work for local beekeepers making honey. At 34, Ruby is raising three teenage girls with her husband Jonathan. Jonathan helps with the girls when he isn’t driving a tractor. They met in kindergarten and were crowned “Mr. and Mrs. Fargo” by the local newspaper when they got married. Ruby’s oldest daughter, Ariel, wants to be a vet. Her middle daughter, Skyler, is an A student and works hard at the local diner. Her baby, 14-year-old Carlie, wants to be a country singer. Ruby saved up for a guitar and bought one “on the internet” and Carlie is slowly teaching herself to play. Jenny asked Ruby if she planned on voting in the upcoming election. “That Biden is not gonna have any money left for us. He’s giving too much to people that don’t belong here.” “Oh, you mean immigrants?” Jenny asked. “Yup. And the other guy… I don't know. …I don’t have time to vote. I gotta work”.

Rural politicians have very significant leverage for their arguments because: rural America is privileged with exceptional voting power. Both the Senate and the Electoral College were established during a time when America was predominantly rural. The Senate was designed to represent states equally, with each state, regardless of population, having only two senators. Known as the Great Compromise, this was how our founders tried to balance the interests of smaller states with larger, more populated states, and it was a reasonably equitable solution for most of the 18th and 19th century. But that is no longer the case.

Created as a compromise between electing the President by Congress and by a popular vote, the “Electoral College” gave smaller states more influence in presidential elections than their population would suggest they actually deserve. Every state gets a number of electors equal to its total number of Senators and Representatives, which means all states have a bare minimum of 3 electoral votes, regardless of population. Over time, as the nation has urbanized and population densities have shifted, the relative power of rural areas in both the Senate and the Electoral College has increased because the minimum representation of two Senators and one Representative remains constant.

Rural voting privilege is apparent once one understands how the math works. Consider the following: Wyoming has a population of about 600,000 people, with 2 senators. This means that each senator represents one half of their population, about 300,000 people. California, on the other hand, has a population of about 39 million people, so each California senator represents about 19.5 million people. That means a California voter in the Senate has about .015% of the power of a Wyoming voter when it comes to representative influence in the Senate. Of course, apart from inequalities produced by gerrymandering by either party, the House of Representatives lives up to its nickname the “People’s House,” because it is our one elected body in the federal government that adheres to the “one vote, one person” principle that underpins most all other western democracies.

The math for the electoral college works a little differently: Every state gets an electoral vote for each Representative and each Senator. So, Wyoming, with one Representative, gets 3 electoral votes for its 600,000 people. California has 54 electoral votes with 52 Representatives and 2 senators for its 39 million people. The math works out to a ratio of 200,000 Wyoming voters per electoral vote and 722,000 voters for each California electoral vote, which means that a voter in California has only 27% of the power of a Wyoming voter in the upcoming Presidential election. That math is especially astonishing, given that landowners in the Slave States were able to count their slaves as 3/5 (or 60%) of a person in elections prior to the passage of the 13th Amendment, which was another way that southern rural areas buttressed their electoral power over northern urban Free States.

Atticus is a kind, gentle 17-year-old boy who waited on us at the White Oak Pasture Farm in Bluffton, Georgia, a family-run farm focusing on regenerative land management. Atticus (his mother named him after Atticus Finch) is a high school senior. He’s very reticent about leaving home to go to Georgia Southwestern State College in Americus. His brother left for an elite college in New England two years ago, but Atticus has no desire to follow in his footsteps. Atticus timidly confessed, “I don’t wanna grow up.” Jenny asked, “Like Peter Pan?”. He didn’t miss a beat. “Yeh, and pay taxes, have to do grown-up things and all kinds of other stuff,” Atticus muttered. “I don’t wanna leave this town. I’m gonna come back here.” Later, we learned that he had a rough time during the Covid pandemic. Atticus is not into social media, and his life in Bluffton (pop 113) is isolated. He did cultivate a friendship with a kid from Great Britain through a video game. When Jenny asked Atticus if he will vote in November (he turns 18 in May), he said he wasn’t interested. “No? Really? Do you have any curiosity?” Jenny asked. Atticus responded, “Nope. I just don’t care.”

The looming threat of a MAGA-inspired Presidential victory reveals apparent weaknesses in our electoral system. Trump and the Republican Party he now owns (which, as Mitch McConnell indicates, has far more rural supporters than urban) could never become President in a “one person, one vote” democracy. But, given the privileged electoral college status of rural states, America may be entering a period of authoritarian minority rule that may become more extreme. In some ways, the disconnect between the Supreme Court ruling on Dobbs v Jackson and the opinions of the majority of Americans on abortion rights is a “canary in the coal mine” event for how authoritarian rule begins.

A recent poll by the Pew Research Center found that about 62% of U.S. adults believe abortion should be legal in all or most cases, while 36% think it should be illegal in all or most cases. Additionally, the poll indicated that 61% of respondents strongly oppose and 13% somewhat oppose their states prohibiting all abortions with no exceptions. Even more surprising are results of a new Axios-Ipsos poll, which found that 81% of Americans agree that “abortion issues should be managed between a woman and her doctor, not the government.” That number includes 65% of Republicans, as well as 82% of Independents and 97% of Democrats. The idea that abortion should be between a woman and her doctor was the language of the Supreme Court’s 1973 Roe v. Wade decision, overturned in 2022 with the help of the three extremist justices appointed by Trump. These polls suggest that a significant majority of Americans are against a federal abortion ban without exceptions.

The coming Presidential election may be a perfect storm wrought by our dangerously outdated election system. White and rural MAGA voters have an electoral edge, and Trump is their guy. He understands better than any other politician how they’ve been taught to believe they are unfairly treated.

Throughout its history, the Klu Klux Klan (KKK) has been recognized as a symbol of hate, racism, and terrorism. Efforts by law enforcement and civil rights organizations have reduced its power, but the Klan still has active members, and its legacy continues to impact American society. Photos taken at the National Voting Rights Museum in Selma.

Unfortunately, Trump’s incendiary rhetoric against migrants and his political opponents is often quickly retweeted and shared with millions of others, leading Trump’s authoritarian impulses to inspire his followers. Consider the following quote from the book, “White Rural Rage: The Threat to American Democracy” by Tom Schiller and Paul Waldman: “Authoritarian populism is distinct from other variants of populism because it not only focuses on a conflict between “the people” and the elite but also rejects democracy, as democracy might enable those who are not like “us” to win and hold power. Wherever one of these rightist movements emerges, chances are it will have its most fervent support in rural areas. And not just rural areas, but the places that have been left behind by economic transitions.”

The Legacy Museum from the outside. Deeply affecting, we recommend you plan for an all day visit. The exhibits are detailed and thorough. There is even a new wing devoted to art inspired by the legacy of slavery.

The Legacy Museum in Montgomery, Alabama, is a compelling testament to the history of racial injustice in the United States. Unfortunately for us (but for understandable reasons), photography is not allowed at the museum. Through thought-provoking exhibits and immersive displays, the museum illuminates the painful truths of slavery, lynching, segregation, and mass incarceration of people of color that have shaped our nation's narrative. Not for the faint of heart, visitors are confronted with the harsh realities of America's past and inspired by stories of resilience, courage, and activism.

The Museum was founded by Bryan Stevenson, a public interest lawyer, the bestselling author of “Just Mercy,” and the founder of the Equal Justice Initiative (EJI). The EJI provides legal representation to people who have been wrongly convicted, unfairly sentenced, or abused in state jails and prisons. In 2018, EJI opened both the Legacy Museum and the National Memorial for Peace and Justice in Montgomery.

Commemorative hanging tombstones honoring each of the 4,400 known victims of lynchings across the United States at the National Memorial for Peace and Justice. It's impossible to describe how moving and unsettling this memorial is.

Security at the museum rivals what one would find at an airport in a large city. At first, I thought it was overkill, but as my experience in the museum gradually deepened, I began to understand its importance. Racial violence is so deeply embedded in the cultural history of the American South that the museum creators, the Equal Justice Institute, are simply being realistic about protecting the thousands of people who visit every day.

It's impossible not to think about Florida’s recently passed Stop WOKE Act while visiting this museum. Ron DeSantis would not like this place, nor would others who share his views. If you are white, and your identity is tied to your whiteness, you will cringe as you learn how cruel some people who share your racial group have been to others of a different race. And if you are a white child, you may feel personally responsible until a thoughtful adult makes it clear that it was only some members of your racial group who were cruel; others looked the other way, and some were openly and heroically resistant. As a white parent, you will have an opportunity to teach your child about the difference between cruelty, complacency, and the peril of inequality. The information can also be seen in another way. If you see all racial groups as equal members of humanity, you will see the exhibits as examples of how we harm ourselves, and how we can be healed by deepening our understanding of what we are capable of, both the good and the bad.

Jenny and I spent a day canoeing inside the Okefenokee National Wildlife Refuge, about 18 miles north of Fargo, Georgia. It was a stunning day, and an opportunity we will never forget.

A Southern Dream

One day not long ago, in a land where the echoes of unity had started to ring clear after a tumultuous struggle for civil rights, a shadow crept silently back into our national politics, feeding on forgotten fears and whispered doubts. It began as a murmur among ambitious and powerful people who realized they could inspire rural white folk to join with them to fight their enemies, then spread that fight to small towns, suburbs and cities. Known as a political movement that promised a return to “simpler times,” its roots were hard to discern at first, but over time it became clear they were laced with the poison of racism and xenophobia. The movement grew, and its tendrils reached straight into the heart of a major political party, gripping it with an iron hold. It spoke in a language of division, painting the world in stark contrasts of “us” and “them,” reigniting flames of intolerance that many believed had been extinguished.

But within this beleaguered party that had once stood strong in the belief that “united we stand, divided we fall,” there were those who remembered the true meaning of their creed. Disaffected and dismayed, they watched as the values they held dear were twisted. At first in secret, and then finally in public, they reached out to the opposition, and to peers who still believed in plurality, diversity, and civil rights. Together, they formed a coalition, a beacon of hope against the encroaching darkness. They worked tirelessly, their efforts a tapestry of countless acts of bravery and kindness. They reminded their fellow citizens of strength found in diversity, of the beauty in every voice being heard. The coalition grew, a testament to the enduring spirit of the people. They marched, they spoke, they voted. And one by one, the walls of fear began to crumble. This major political party, now free from the grip of the divisive movement, was once again able to join hands with the opposition and govern the land fairly and effectively.

The public sphere, once clouded by the specters of racism and xenophobia, was illuminated once more by the light of understanding, acceptance, and compassion for all. The movement that sought to divide was remembered as a cautionary tale, a reminder of the vigilance needed to guard the sacred halls of democracy. And so the land returned to a path of progress, its people united by the shared belief that all voices are equal, and all hearts deserve to be heard. The death of division gave birth to a new era, one where every individual could stand tall, proud of their heritage, and confident in their right to self-determination.

And we all lived happily ever after.

Stay vigilant! Thanks for reading. If you haven’t done so, please subscribe to this blog to follow our next biking trip.

Blog writing by Michael Chase. Drawings by Jenny Hershey. Unless credited or otherwise noted, all material is the copyrighted property of the blog post authors, except for “Southern Dream,” which is a collaboration between Michael and Copilot AI.

Jennifer Hershey’s drawings can be enjoyed on Instagram @deeofo.

Postscript

The night before we left on this trip, Jenny was phoned by a close friend who was a bit intoxicated. He lashed into Jenny for planning yet another trip to the southeast. “How can you go there?” He asked, incredulously. “You know they hate you! You’re Jewish! Why don’t you go somewhere you are wanted?” Jenny was nonplussed. She loves her friend, and she also felt attacked and misunderstood.

The next day Jenny received a text from her friend with a sincere apology, and the following note: “Jennifer, the injustices endured by people of color has been on my mind, in my heart, living inside my body for the better part of a decade now. I think this shift in my consciousness is because my nephew is half African-American. I’ve always had a certain amount of fear and loathing of the south, and I think with good reason. The history bears out that fear. And continues to. It’s like I said – the politicians they promote and try to hoist onto the public, coupled with the bills they try to pass from anti-abortion to gerrymandering - the hits just keep on coming. And just like Netanyahu is trying to sell the idea that 85% of Palestinians support Hamas, I have to wonder what percentage of white southerners in their hearts think of black people as lesser inferior beings? So much of this is just baked into a culture sometimes.”

A few days later, we saw the sign above at the Legacy Museum in Montgomery. Because photography is not allowed there, we found the same sign later on Google Images with the parental advisory attached.

Michael Johnson-Chase 2/5/24 Michael Johnson-Chase 2/5/24

Fear and Reality; Biking from Mississippi to Savannah

Writing by Michael Chase, Drawings by Jenny Hershey

We met Louis, an electrical contractor from Miami, at the NextEra Energy Resources solar farm just south of Bainbridge, Georgia. Louis works for Moss Construction, and he travels all over the south installing and solar facilities. Louis approached us cautiously at a chain-link fence. He thought we stopped to complain because so many other locals have. The installation generates 350 MW per day (enough to power an average of 136,000 homes).“People just don’t like change,” he said to us, “Even when we hire local people to work alongside us, they just don’t like change.” But we were delighted to see such an enormous solar farm. We learned later the biggest fear overwhelming Bainbridge is the proposed construction of a facility to breed 30,000 research monkeys for lab research. “STOP THE MONKEYS” signs were everywhere. Locals are worried that fecal and urine waste from the monkeys will negatively impact the local water supply. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on instagram @deeofo.

“When it comes down to it, doomsday attitudes are often no better than denial.”

Hannah Ritchie, from Not the End of the World; How We Can Be the First Generation to Build a Sustainable Planet

“Put simply, there are many reasons to fear … fear.”

Christopher Bader, from Fear Itself; the Causes and Consequences of Fear in America

Our train was delayed leaving the Birmingham station for over an hour because of a derailed oil tanker car on the Amtrak line. Trains can be relaxing so the delay wasn’t too bothersome to me or Jenny until we realized we were likely to arrive in Meridian, Mississippi, at just around sundown. We didn’t like that at all; it would force us to bike in the dark through a busy industrial section of town, and cross several bridges to get to a supermarket before descending a curvy, pothole-filled highway passing under Interstate 20 to get to our motel.

This is our route as we bicycled from Meridian to Savannah. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on instagram @deeofo.

As the train pulled in, we could see Bunky, the stationmaster at Meridian, waiting. Jenny and I said our goodbyes to the train steward Darian, jumped off the train and unloaded our gear on the platform. I walked toward the luggage car to retrieve our bicycles while Jenny caught up with Bunky. We had met Bunky on a previous trip to Meridian, and you can find a drawing and a bit about him in a previous post here. Just as before, he was warm and helpful. In no time we were conversing like old friends while we loaded our gear onto our bikes. Clearly, Bunky enjoys folks who ride bikes in unexpected places, just as we respect his loyalty to Meridian, and loved his wonderful stories.

As cold as it was during the first week of our trip, we layered up with almost all our clothing, and pushed on. We saw this lonely crane at Alabama Point near Perdido Bay east of Mobile on a secluded beach. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

We said goodbye to Bunky just as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. There was a cold breeze as we biked past dimly lit and abandoned factories, parking lots, rode over several railroad bridges and a took a steep downhill run almost to the freeway where the Cost Saver is, nestled well off the road behind a large empty parking lot. We got off our bikes, and I stayed behind to watch over them. On the way in, Jenny was told to leave her backpack behind. I looked up, and saw a pudgy and disheveled young man with a gun in a holster on his hip. Jenny said, “Ok”, while I blurted out, “Who are you?” He answered, “Security. Too many people shoplift here.” Another young man was standing nearby, and he lifted up a clear plastic see-through backpack and said, “I work here, but it’s ok for me to go inside with this because they can see what’s inside.”

We met Darian, a steward on the Amtrak Crescent that travels between New York City and New Orleans. At each stop we observed him helping older folks off the train by offering his shoulder, and also gently lifting small children onto the train. Darian loves his job, and he’s also passionate about being a real estate agent and part-time actor in New Orleans. Both Jenny and I agreed he would make a great spokesperson for Amtrak. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Jenny handed me her backpack and entered the store. “Do you know it’s gonna get real cold in a few days?” asked the man with the backpack. “Yes,” I responded. “Are you ready for it?” He didn’t answer, but the security officer patted his gun and said, “Yea, I got this.” … I was puzzling that out just as Jenny returned. We already knew a very large and intense polar vortex was coming (we had read about it on the train), but neither of us knew how it was going to affect our bike trip. We packed up our groceries and left the store, and finally managed to check into the motel, feeling relieved to be there and excited to be starting a new adventure. Yet, we were not at all certain how we were going to manage the extremely cold and wintry weather heading our way.

We met Louis outside Ellisville, Mississippi, as we were adjusting our gear at an abandoned gas station. Louis was driving by, and made a sudden u-turn, pulled into the station and jumped out of his truck. We didn’t have time to react before he asked in a booming voice, “You got a weapon?” “A weapon?” Jenny replied, “We’re from New York City. We don’t carry weapons. Do we need them here?” Louis shrugged, and walked back to his pickup, bringing back a box cutter. He handed it to me, and I almost took it, but then I said, “I have a knife in my gear (I did, although it would take me about 10 minutes to find it), so I don’t need that. But thanks!” We fell into chatting, learning that Louis had lived his whole life in Mississippi except for one week in Missouri and he came back because he was homesick. Jenny admired Louis’s beard. He told us he grew it for his sister-in-law who makes wigs for kids with cancer. He cuts it for her every three years. “My beard is coarse so it makes great wigs for black kids. Here, feel it.” Jenny did. Then he touched his head, “My hair up top is softer. It’s for the white kids.” As we finished talking, Louis reached out and hugged Jenny, and waved me over to share a group hug (to our complete surprise) before he jumped back in his truck and drove away. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo

According to a recent article in Scientific American, the cold snap that hit the US was one of the most impressive Arctic outbreaks of this century, bringing deadly cold to 231 million people. It was caused by a polar vortex, a high-altitude swirl of counter-clockwise flowing winds that usually keeps cold air trapped in the Arctic. As the atmosphere heats up, the polar winds become disrupted and they slow down, causing their oscillations to increase. Think of how a spinning top becomes wobblier as it loses speed. The polar jet stream becomes wobblier and the polar vortex is increasingly likely to dip southward. The vortex this past January was highly unusual in both depth and width, covering almost all of the United States in one fell swoop. Don't forget that 2023 was the hottest year on record, and the Arctic is warming up four times faster than the rest of the planet. Because we are in an El Niño cycle, next year could be even hotter which, counterintuitively, may make polar vortexes even more extreme.

The January, 2024, vortex was deeper and wider than this image indicates. Image courtesy of weather.gov and NOAA.

As a result, Jenny and I are more vigilant about checking weather patterns and planning for unusual events on our cycling trips. Interestingly, weather challenges only add to the fascination of our trips. Sometimes extreme weather becomes the climate story itself, eclipsing what we learn about liquified natural gas export terminals, sacrifice zones, local pollution issues and poor development. And, just as often, the weather is tolerable; we woke up to about 25 degrees and 10-15 mph winds out of the south. Not bad, given that our NOAA weather service app was predicting 13 degrees for the next night in Meridian. We headed south toward Laurel, taking it one day at a time. We had hoped to go to Hattiesburg next, where we had spent a lovely afternoon a year ago on a different trip, but instead decided to go directly south in search of warmer temperatures. So we headed toward Ocean Springs, Mississippi, on the Gulf Coast. We survived the worst part of the arctic blast, although we were forced to stay inside our motel for an extra day. We did venture out on foot to visit the Walter Anderson Museum of Art (definitely worth a visit!) and eat sensational crab cakes at a nearly empty local restaurant. It remained in the 20’s and 30’s with intense winds out of the east for the rest of the week, and we soldiered into the wind, staying as close to the coast as possible.

According to ProPublica investigative research, these gorgeous Pelicans are in a “sacrifice zone” neighborhood near Pascagoula, Mississippi, that is at risk of cancer 3.4 times more than what EPA says is acceptable. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @ mjohnsonchase.

For anyone paying attention it’s hard to miss that last year the world broke yet another record for the sheer volume of greenhouse gases emitted into the atmosphere. Consequently, we are witnessing a disturbing acceleration in the number, speed and scale of broken climate records. 86 days were recorded in 2023 with temperatures exceeding 1.5°C above pre-industrial levels. In fact, National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) data on billion dollar weather disasters indicates significant increases in both the frequency and the cost of such disasters during the period from 2003 to 2022, compared to 1983 to 2002. More alarming, this trend appears likely to continue: by the end of 2023 there had been 28 weather and climate disasters just in the United States that had resulted in over $1 billion in damages. The total cost of disasters in 2023 alone in the US was at least $92 billion dollars.

Given there is a lag between when emissions occur and when their effects are felt, it is already clear things will get worse before they will get better, no matter what we do now. After all, it takes time for the physics to work itself out, and that time is more likely measured in years than months. Scientists know this, and that is why there is already wide agreement we are going to permanently surpass the aspirational limit of 1.5 C degrees of warming that was set at the Paris Accords.

We met Christman at a boat launch in Bayou Cumbest outside Pascagoula, Alabama, near where I took the Pelican photo above. Christman explained how to spell his name like he’d said it hundreds of times - “It’s Christmas with an N, and it’s a family name.”Christman works as a mate on a tugboat in the river, and was fully dressed in camouflage as he set out on his skiff as the day was ending. Having just finished his shift, he was hoping to kill a deer or a boar with his bow and arrow, although he said he preferred venison over boar meat. Christman was headed for the closest barrier island, where he would have to bushwhack half a mile through the marshes to find prey. He needed the food because his refrigerator was empty. We had no idea if Christman knows about the elevated cancer rates in this “sacrifice zone neighborhood.” As outsiders we didn’t think it was our place to ask. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

COP participating nations remain committed to the goal of zero emissions by the year 2050. There is increasing evidence we can achieve it, even if we are turning toward change as a large battleship might… slowly and steadily, in spite of obstacles everywhere. While we have still failed to see a drop in global emissions, all indications are that we will in a few years. Recent rapid deployment of renewable energy has breathed hope into global efforts to reduce emissions, and the best informed writers and climate scientists around us are telling us not to let our fears give way to despair. There are many signs of positive change. Interestingly, many of the changes in the US are driven by red states because of the positive economics of renewables in the heartland. An excellent analysis of the extraordinary growth in US wind and solar can be read here.

Jenny frolicks at the Gulf Island National Seashore near Navarre, Florida. This is a delightful ten mile stretch of unspoiled parkland on a barrier island. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @ mjohnsonchase.

In 2010, global installations of solar and wind combined made up only 1.7% of global electricity generation. By last year, global installations had climbed to 8.7%, which is far higher than what had been predicted. In 2012 the International Energy Agency expected that global solar energy generation would reach 550 TWh by 2030, but that number was reached by 2018, making the growth of renewables more exponential than linear.

At home, the US installed 37.3 GW of wind and solar power in 2022 (a record high), generating 383 TWh of wind power generation, up from 275 TWh in 2018. In the same time span, solar power generation rose from 96 TWh to 212 TWh. These are unprecedented rates of growth and have contributed considerable economic benefits to communities across America. Renewable energy developers pay property taxes, which boosts public funds. Most of the states that have been bullish on renewables also have low electricity prices well below the US average.

Solar panels on display in an aerial photograph of the 700,000 panel solar energy installation near Bainbridge, Georgia, where we met Louis from Jenny's first drawing. NextEra leased the 1,400 linear miles needed (measured by putting the panels side by side). According to WTXL TV in Tallahassee this project, “creates opportunities for the landowners and the farmers to increase their operations while they’re able to rely on the revenue from a plant like this,” said NextEra Energy Resources VP of Development Stuart McCurdy. And farmers and landowners aren’t the only ones benefiting. This project created 350 jobs during the construction period and over the next 30 years it’s expected to generate nearly $14 million dollars in tax revenue for Decatur County. Image above from onXBackcountry.

This photo is a landscape view of the installation above from an easement on a county road. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @ mjohnsonchase.

In a recent opinion piece in the New York Times, David Wallace-Wells writes about an unusually successful effort to defend renewables by explaining an effort in Texas by state Republican officials to shut down the wind and solar sectors, which was was soundly “defeated by Republican businessmen who realized that would “raise electricity bills, harm economic development and imperil the state’s grid, which has been saved from blackouts several times in recent years by new renewable capacity.”

It’s also important to mention the bold step taken by the Biden administration to request environmental reviews of 17 new liquified natural gas (LNG) terminals, especially the enormous LNG terminal CP2 near Cameron, Louisiana. Even though the Biden administration has already approved more LNG export facilities than the Trump administration did, there is little division over the decision to delay these terminals in the White House. Halting them is not seen as a major energy security issue, since the United States is already producing and exporting so much gas. Capacity is already set to nearly double over the next four years, making the need for these additional terminals less urgent.

Analysts have said that pausing permit approvals will have little immediate impact on the flow of American LNG exports to European allies, nor will it impede the eight LNG export projects currently operating or halt ten LGN export terminals already approved and under construction. The United States now ranks as the world’s biggest LNG exporter after doubling its exports over the past four years. The projects already approved and under construction are expected to double the current volume of American LNG exports by 2028. For those reasons, and in spite of the spin at Fox News, there will be little, if any, geopolitical downside. Now, a critical calculation can be assessed on whether methane emissions will push the world too far toward a highly dangerous climate scenario. This evaluation reflects the advice of many climate scientists, and has relieved millions of Americans who are worried about the consequences of a rapidly changing climate.

I celebrate at a state line marker between Alabama and Florida on the coast. I have three shirts, one of them wool, plus two Gore-tex jackets and a down vest on. My legs and head are similarly layered. Thankfully, the sun was shining. Photo by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

I particularly treasure a newsletter on Substack called “Sustainability by Numbers” by a 35 year-old Scottish climate scientist named Hannah Ritchie, author of a fascinating book called “Not the End of the World”. Ms Ritchie works at a European organization called Our World in Data. Here are some of their core beliefs:

“It is possible to change the world. To work towards a better future, we need to understand how and why the world is changing. In important ways global living conditions have improved…. While we believe this is one of the most important facts to know about the world we live in, it is known by surprisingly few. Instead, many believe that global living conditions are stagnating or getting worse and much of the news media’s reporting is doing little to challenge this perception. It is wrong to believe that one can understand the world by following the news alone and the media’s focus on single events and things that go wrong can mean that well-intentioned people who want to contribute to positive change become overwhelmed, hopeless, cynical and in the worst cases give up on their ideals.”

In Chipley, Florida, I went looking for drinking water while Jenny went to the local Walmart to buy food. While checking out, Jenny met Ella, who kindly helped Jenny use the Walmart app. On a hunch, Jenny asked Ella, “So? How’s that governor of yours working out for you?” “He’s not MY governor,” Ella quickly retorted. Now 24, Ella began her transition from a man to a woman at age 20. She acknowledged that Florida is a very difficult state for younger kids in need of hormone treatments. Even so, Jenny learned that Ella’s co-workers are quite supportive, and Ella has learned how to roll with the punches when customers react uncomfortably to her. She remains calm, “stays in her lane” and doesn’t react. Ella isn’t a marcher or an activist for transgender rights; it’s enough for her to do what she can to live a good life and enjoy herself - particularly her life with her girlfriend. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @ deeofo.

One afternoon, after we sought shelter sooner than we usually would because of very cold winds, I came across a body of work in sociology that complements Hannah Ritchie’s. While researching how apocalyptic thinking permeates viewpoints about the solvability of our climate crisis, I googled the sociologist Christopher Bader. I was delighted to discover the book: “Fear Itself; The Causes and Consequences of Fear in America” by Christopher D. Bader, Joseph O. Baker, L. Edward Day, and Ann Gordon.

Fear Itself, and its related project the Chapman University Annual Survey of American Fears, addresses the more pernicious aspects of fear on American life. We know that persistent fear can negatively affect our decision-making abilities and cause anxiety, depression, and poor physical health. But what we often miss is that fear also harms communities and society by corroding social trust and civic engagement. One needs only to look at our current divisive politics, and the ways that politicians effectively leverage fears to garner votes. It is quite clear that fears are driven by the kind and volume of news and social media we consume. Consider survey data about the impacts of daily viewing of highly partisan news on both conservative and progressive news outlets: “The more frequently our survey respondents reported watching Fox News, the greater their number of fears related to Obamacare, gun control, illegal immigrants, and other “horrors” frequently addressed by Fox. The effect is quite strong. Someone who reports watching Fox News every day is, on average, afraid of three times as many conservative political concerns compared to someone who never does. Across the political spectrum from Fox News sits MSNBC. Their viewers are hardly immune from fear; they just fear different things. Fear of Trumpcare, white supremacists, anti-immigrant groups, sovereign citizens, and extreme anti-tax groups steadily increases the more frequently someone watches MSNBC. Those who watch every day are fearful of almost twice as many of these concerns compared to those who never watch MSNBC.”

I don’t mean to suggest that being uninformed is better than being informed, but I am suggesting that we need better ways to assess reality, and are wrong to assume that watching highly partisan news is going to teach us what is truly happening in our world. As Ritchie suggests, we are better off paying less attention to what is new, and more attention to what is important. Or put another way: let’s pay less attention to problems, and more attention to solutions.

The graphic above features Conservative and Liberal Fears: Percentage Afraid by Political Orientation (2017). Notice how there are significant fears by respondents from both parties, although what is feared is distinctly different. Graphic from “Fear Itself; The Causes and Consequences of Fear in America.”

For example, if you study crime statistics it is quite clear that fear of crime in America is considerably out of proportion with the reality of crime. I regard this misperception as an example of Ritchie’s point that we need to focus on what's real through data, and not succumb to misguided fears.

The Chapman survey verifies increasing high fear levels of crime since 2016, even though - in reality - the national violent crime rate in the US decreased by 1.7% in 2022, consistent with the trend of a long-term decline in violent crime since 1993. Crime rates for Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Florida and Georgia has been steadily decreasing in all categories except shootings. What’s more, crime has been steadily decreasing in New York City for years, making it the safest large city in America right now. The New York City Police Department (NYPD) reports that the major felony offenses of murder, rape, robbery, felony assault, burglary, grand larceny, and grand larceny of motor vehicle, have declined by 28.6% from 2012 to 2022.

However, some types of crimes, such as shootings and hate crimes, have increased across the nation in recent years. The old phrase “coincidence doesn’t indicate causality” might apply here, but it is worth contemplating that gun ownership in the US increased by 28% from 1994 to 2023. It is estimated that there are now over 393 million civilian-owned firearms in America. That said, most gun deaths occur by people who know their victims. (Hopefully that fact will mollify some our more fearful liberal friends who worry that Jenny or I will be shot on our bikes if we cycle in states with “conceal and carry” laws.)

We were eating lunch near a boat launch in Walton County, Florida, when Chris pulled up in his truck, and stepped out. Jenny immediately said, “Hi, how are you doing today?” “Chris responded “I’m doing really well, thank you, Ma’am.” Jenny replied, “Where are you from? That’s an unusual accent you have.” Chris responded: “It’s not an accent. It’s a speech impediment”. And a long conversation followed. Chris is a 49 year-old sanitation employee for the county. He was 23 years old when he suffered a brain stem injury in an automobile accident. The accident put him in a coma for a week, and left him unable to walk and speak for three months. He told us,“Every night I’d cry myself to sleep, feeling sorry for myself. Finally I started praying for the Lord to save me.” Then he had a vision in which the Lord came to him, and lifted him up. And he started to heal, and Chris realized he had survived that accident for a reason, and it was to live a life in service to the Lord. Chris used to be embarrassed about his speech difficulties, but now proudly shares his miraculous story with others, “Praise the Lord!” As we were packing up, Chris asked Jenny, “Do you go to church?” Jenny replied, “I’m Jewish, and I sometimes go to temple. Hope that doesn’t bother you.” Chris kindly responded, “Doesn’t matter. God loves all people.” In closing, Chris told us he’s praying that, “DeSantis will become Trump’s VP so there can be 12 years of solid, God-loving leadership of our country.”

If you have read our last two blog posts, you know about our previous random encounters with conspiracy theorists. I was intrigued to learn from Bader that there is a direct correlation between the number of fears reported by Americans and the number of conspiracy theories they believe. In spite of climate activists being called “alarmists” by some, there aren’t conspiracies created by individuals who understand and accept climate science. However, there are nonsensical and exaggerated claims made by environmentalists from time to time. In contrast, there are numerous conspiracy theories about fake or distorted climate science, as well as researchers so corrupted they actively perpetuate the climate myth to access massive amounts of grant money (the latter conspiracy was shared by a family friend who voted for Trump). Of course, these conspiracies theories do what all conspiracy theories do; undermine public trust.

According to the Chapman survey, the “fear of corrupt government officials” has been the top concern for Americans for six consecutive years, from 2018 to 2023. This tells us much about the erosion of public trust. If we cannot trust our government, our scientists, our finest universities, or our most successful corporations (all participants of the public trust), how will we successfully tackle large and complex problems as a nation, much less as a world?

Fear itself is our greatest adversary. It keeps us from figuring out what’s real. And if we don't know what's real, we can’t know the world and we don’t have the power to truly change it. So, to return to Hannah Ritchie’s point, how do we really understand what is happening in the world? Are our worst fears based in real things, or are they out of proportion with reality? And is the news media we consume distorting our real knowledge of the world, or increasing it? Are we feeling apocalyptic because that’s always been part of the human experience, or because our news media and social media offers fear up to us as an endless banquet?

Stay vigilant! Thanks for reading. If you haven’t done so, please subscribe to this blog to follow our next biking trip.

Blog writing by Michael Chase. Drawings by Jenny Hershey. Unless credited or otherwise noted, all material is the copyrighted property of the blog post authors.

Temple Bethel was the only synagogue Jenny found on this tour until we got to Savannah. It was in Bainbridge, GA, and after an exodus of Jews, it was converted to an Airbnb. Photo by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Michael Johnson-Chase 9/17/23 Michael Johnson-Chase 9/17/23

Save the Children; Biking the Saint Lawrence in Quebec

Writing by Michael Chase, Drawings by Jenny Hershey

We met Dave in the town of Gaspe at the tip of the Gaspe Peninsula. He was at the end of an overnight shift at LM Wind Power Canada, a leading manufacturer of wind turbine blades in North America. Dave wearily explained that LM has produced over 10,000 blades and currently produces the largest wind turbine blades in the world, measuring 107 meters. These blades are sold in both European and American markets. We asked Dave if we could go inside the factory to see the blades being constructed. “Oh no,” he said, “that’s confidential. I can’t even let my family see inside. Go around the back, and you can see them before they are shipped to Boston for an offshore project.” We were excited by the opportunity and praised Dave for contributing to renewable energy. “Well, that’s all very nice.” he said, “But to me, it’s just a job!” He slowly walked toward his car to go home to sleep. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

“The world as we have created it is a process of our thinking. It cannot be changed without changing our thinking.”

- Albert Einstein

The Gaspe Peninsula and the North Shore of the Gulf of Saint Lawrence in Quebec have loomed large in our imaginations as a cycling destination for years. Jenny and I found them both accessible and remote, as well as charming and quite stunning. We drove to Quebec from New York City in mid-August, left Jenny’s car at the Quebec City airport, and began biking. North of Maine and New Brunswick, the Gaspe Peninsula and the North Shore of the mighty Saint Lawrence River are favorite destinations for Canadians, especially for residents who live in and around the populated areas of Montreal, Quebec City, New Brunswick, and other parts of the Canadian Maritimes. Gaspe and the northern shore of the Gulf of Saint Lawrence in Quebec feature spectacular landscapes with hundreds of miles of coastland with stunning fishing villages, beautiful bays, fjords, mountains, gushing rivers and streams, waterfalls, lots of camping spots, and modest and charming accommodations. We were not disappointed!

We began at Quebec City, riding our bicycles up the north coastline of the Gaspe Peninsula to the town of Gaspe and down to Perce, then across the interior through Murdochville and back to Matane on the north coast of the peninsula, where we ferried to Baie-Comeau, biked down the North Coast of the Saint Lawrence to Tadoussac and up the mighty Saguenay River with its many fjords to St. Rose du Nord, then back to Tadoussac, across the Saguenay River by ferry to Baie St. Catherine, down to Saint Simone, taking yet another ferry to Rivière du Loup and biking back to Quebec City. We rode about 1,350 miles in total. Map constructed by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

The abundance of good weather we encountered on this trip contrasted almost daily with news about challenging weather events plaguing many other communities elsewhere. Because Jenny and I follow climate change impacts on local communities as widely as possible, the contrast between our experience at any given moment and what is happening elsewhere is always on our minds. This has been quite a summer for extreme weather events. It may be that 2023 will be remembered as the year the global climate tipped permanently into a perpetually worsening fever. For the remainder of our lives (we are in our early seventies), Jenny and I can count on experiencing ever-worsening weather. As to those born in the 21st century, climate science modeling indicates that temperatures (and their attendant impacts) may flatten out in forty to fifty years if we can manage to stop emitting greenhouse gases over the next few decades. It’s a profound moment for humanity; whether we get it together in time to save civilization as we know it is the biggest story humanity has ever faced.

Wind turbine blades destined for a Boston offshore wind project manufactured in Gaspe at LM Wind Power. The facility employs over 500 workers and contributes to the local economy and the green transition. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

No matter what happens with greenhouse gas emissions, extreme weather tragedies over the next few decades will undoubtedly exceed anything we have already experienced. Still, giving into despair is pointless and unproductive. While we must be realistic about our situation, there is always hope. Humanity can still create a workable future. We have all the technical solutions we need, and the global collective will to improve our way of life gets stronger daily. At the same time, we must focus ever more intently on removing the corporate-driven, highly politicized conflicts of interest that stand in the way. More on that later in this post…

The Gaspé Peninsula is one of the windiest regions in Canada, with an average wind speed of 28 feet per second. The region has been developing its wind energy potential since the 1990s with the support of the provincial and federal governments, local communities, and private companies. The Mesgi’g Ugju’s’n wind farm has 47 wind turbines expected to generate approximately $200 million for three indigenous Mi’gmaq communities over the next 20 years, with a total installed capacity of 150 megawatts (MW). The large multinational renewable energy company Innergex is also active on the peninsula, and the windmills pictured above belong to them. The region has over 800 MW of installed wind capacity, representing about 60% of Quebec's total wind capacity. There are also several research and training centers for wind energy, such as Nergica and the École de Technologie supérieure (ÉTS). This photo was taken near Baie des Capucins, Quebec. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

Jenny and I publish these blog posts every few months, and it usually seems helpful to begin with a brief review of our changing climate. As change accelerates, a lot can happen in a few months. Fortunately, the press is getting better about reporting on climate issues, so many people (except, perhaps, for those who only expose themselves to the far-right echo chamber) are already aware of the constant drumbeat of ominous climate news. Consequently, a very brief review of 2023 to date will suffice (for a more thorough accounting go here):

The hottest aggregated land temperatures in recorded history.
The hottest aggregated ocean temperatures and greatest ocean acidification levels in recorded history.
Lahaina, Maui, was reduced to toast. Over 100,000 people in Canada were evacuated because of encroaching wildfires. Major American cities experienced deadly levels of air pollution from Canadian wildfires. Cities in Greece were evacuated because of wildfires and then hammered by historic rain bombs.
A record number of typhoons, cyclones, hurricanes, and tornadoes worldwide.
Atmospheric rivers, rain bombs, historic damage from flooding events. (The floods in Libya leading to bursting dams are the most recent and chilling episode).
Unprecedented and enduring droughts and resulting starvation from crop failures, especially in the Horn of Africa.
Record temperatures and melting of sea ice and glaciers in both polar regions.
A Casandra-like warning from scientists that the Atlantic Current (AMOC) is weakening and may shut down as early as the mid-2030s if emissions aren’t radically reduced soon.

We met Helene and Paule from Sherbrooke, Quebec, at a rest stop near Saint Maxime du-Mont-Louis. They were on their way to a camping trip to Forillon National Park at the tip of the Gaspe Peninsula. Almost by accident, we found ourselves discussing family values, and Helene and Paule shared their story of love and building a family. They met over 30 years ago. Helene is a retired audiologist, and Paule still works as an occupational therapist for ALS patients. They both came out to their friends and family years ago and eventually adopted two children. However, at the time, they were not legally able to adopt together as a same-sex couple, so they each legally adopted one child, although they continued to live as a family of four. Helene explained, *“It took a few more years for us to come out to our larger social and professional communities.”* However, those communities gradually came to accept them, and they have been well-integrated into the Sherbrooke community for years. Along the way, they’ve seen a lot of progress toward tolerance. However, they are now concerned by the anti-LGBTQ sentiment reappearing in Canadian political and cultural life, much like the United States. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Like everywhere else on our beleaguered planet, the impact of climate change is apparent in Quebec on the North Shore and the Gaspe Peninsula. Gaspe was lucky to escape wildfires this year (although the region was surrounded by fires in northern Quebec and Nova Scotia). The most apparent climate-driven issues on Gaspe are coastal erosion, rising sea levels, and extreme weather events, such as unusually intense storms and more significant swings between drought and wet periods. This summer (2023) was much wetter than the norm, with some prolonged periods of extreme heat. That said, a heat wave in Gaspe is when temperatures climb above about 85F (30C), although we talked to a 23-year-old bicycle mechanic in Matane who can remember a few 104F (40C) days in earlier years. So, while residents and tourists experience heat waves, less attention is paid in this region than further south to the dangers of heat fatigue, exhaustion, or heat stroke. Unfortunately, that is unlikely to last.

James owns the L’Etoile du Nord Motel on Pointe-a-la Fregate on the Gaspé Bay Peninsula. He purchased his motel/restaurant before the COVID pandemic but decided to run his Montreal-based cybersecurity consulting business remotely once it hit. James runs a tight ship as a motel and restaurant owner while simultaneously running his cybersecurity business. He greets his motel guests for breakfast, engages in warm morning chatter, and then promptly hops on Zoom calls with his cybersecurity staff in Montreal. James shared some of his dreams while showing us around his property. He is very proud of a late 19th-century ice house that he moved inland to protect from storm surges. As we walked on, he gestured to some empty beehives, telling us the bees didn’t make it through last winter and he’ll try again in the spring. Then James showed us a spot where he hopes to build a lighthouse. In a touching moment, he placed his hand over his heart and confessed his greatest joy is having his two young adult sons working with him this summer. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Although communities on the peninsula have faced coastal erosion challenges for decades, climate change has accelerated erosion in recent years by increasing the frequency and intensity of storms, reducing the protective sea ice cover, and causing sea level rise. Consequently, an increasing number of homes, businesses, infrastructure, and cultural heritage sites in the Gaspe region are at risk of being damaged or destroyed by the encroaching sea. Although we couldn’t meet them, we read about a couple trying to save their ancestral home from coastal erosion by placing 650 tons of rocks along their property to create a barrier against the waves. However, they acknowledge this is only a temporary solution, and they may eventually be forced to move.

The morning sun reflects off the water on the Gulf of Saint Lawrence at L’Etoile du Nord, the lovely motel we write about above on the Pointe a la Fregate near the northernmost end of the Gaspe Peninsula. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

We traveled across the Saint Lawrence Gulf by ferry at Matane to Baie-Comeau. We had been enjoying the coastal charms of Gaspe so much that we weren’t prepared for the ecological and geographic distinctions of the North Shore. The town of Baie-Comeau was an unsightly contrast to the lovely city of Matane. Although there was a minor English fishing village in what was called Comeau Bay since the late 1800s, the town grew rapidly after a paper mill was established in 1936 by Colonel Robert R. McCormick, publisher of the Chicago Tribune. Experiencing remarkable growth, the town of Baie-Comeau was incorporated the following year. The area continued to see economic development when hydroelectric power stations were established on the Manicouagan and Outardes Rivers, as well as an aluminum smelter and grain warehouses. As a result, the area is industrial and rather ugly. We were told, however, that the cycling between Baie-Comeau and Godbout to the northeast was exceptionally scenic. Unfortunately, we didn’t have the time to go there.

As we queued up for the ferry in Matane, Quebec, to cross the Saint Lawrence on our way to Baie-Comeau, we met a fellow bicyclist named Renaud. We admired his new folding e-bike and swapped biking stories. We learned that Renaud was a proud member of Local 711, the Canadian steelworkers union, and was part of a group of men who were sent to work on the construction of the World Trade Center in 1972, when there was a shortage of steelworkers in the States. He recalled living in Orange, New Jersey, among many cockroaches. He remembers being completely overwhelmed watching the towers come down on television on 9/11. Knowing how the towers were constructed, he was shocked they fell and felt a profound personal loss. But now, in retired life, Renaud enjoys long day trips on his e-bike and leaves the past behind. As we disembarked, we were impressed by Renaud’s agility as he exited, so we asked his age. He replied matter of factly, “I’m eighty-one.” Jenny and I shared a glance. We were both thinking, let’s hope we can do that at his age! Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram @deepfo.

We went south instead. We were puzzled by the devastated terrain as we progressed southwest on Highway 138 toward Tadoussac. The trees are largely Jack Pine mixed with some Red and White pine and a few birches. At least half looked dead, and the undergrowth was thick with lifeless and decaying wood. The ground was exceedingly sandy. Jenny, who is very attuned to bird life, kept commenting on the notable absence of birds, “Nothing to see, nothing to hear!” Although no paved roads led off the highway, occasionally, an unpaved road, sandy and uneven, stretched into the seemingly endless pine forest. Sometimes, we could glimpse logged wood piled behind the trees. And once in a while, the forest would open up into rocky terrain and fiercely rapid streams and rivers. I imagined this landscape continuing for hundreds of miles to the north. But how would I know? All I knew for sure was we were on the southern border of Quebec’s arboreal forest, and it didn’t look healthy.

Climate change and natural disturbances are the most likely cause of dead trees in the boreal forest near Baie-Comeau, Quebec. As we know only too well after this summer’s record-breaking wildfires, climate change is causing the boreal forest to experience unprecedented warming and drying, which kills trees, turning them into fuel. In addition, insect outbreaks, such as spruce budworm and bark beetles, damage and weaken trees, making them more susceptible to diseases and decay. Even in the absence of wildfires, these factors can create a feedback loop where more carbon is released from the forest into the atmosphere, contributing to further climate change and forest degradation. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

The boreal forest in Canada is now releasing more carbon than it is storing. This is because of the increasing frequency and intensity of wildfires, which are driven by climate change and the dry and decaying conditions we witnessed on Highway 138. Wildfires burn the biomass and dead organic matter, as well as soil pools that store carbon, and release it into the atmosphere as carbon dioxide and other greenhouse gases. A recent OpEd by David Wallace-Wells reveals that “the carbon dioxide released by Canadian wildfires so far is estimated to be nearly 1.5 billion tons — more than twice as much as Canada releases through transportation, electricity generation, heavy industry, construction and agriculture combined. In fact, it is more than the total emissions of more than 100 of the world’s countries - also combined.” But what is most striking about this year’s fires is that despite their scale, they are merely a continuation of a dangerous trend. Since 2001, Canada’s forests have emitted more carbon than they’ve absorbed.

That is the central finding of a distressing analysis published last month by Barry Saxifrage in Canada’s National Observer. Saxifrage suggests the tipping point was passed two decades ago, when the country’s vast boreal forests, long a reliable sink for carbon, became instead a carbon source. In the 2000s, the effect was relatively small. But so far in the 2020s, Canada’s forests have raised the country’s total emissions by 50 percent. As Saxifrage writes: “There is this feel-good myth in Canada that our massive forest is offsetting some of our massive fossil fuel emissions. That might have been true decades ago under our old, stable climate. But we’ve so weakened our forest — through decades of business-as-usual industrial logging and fossil-fuelled climate shifts — that it has switched to hemorrhaging CO₂ instead of absorbing it.”

The falling green line on the chart above shows that in the early 1990s, the forest was a valuable carbon sink, helping to slow global warming. Back then, new forest growth absorbed more CO2 from the air than was emitted by logging, wildfire and decay. That all changed after 2001, the tipping point year for Canada's managed forest. As the rising red line on the chart shows, since that year, the forest has emitted more CO2 than it has absorbed. A lot more. Logging, wildfires, insects and the many forms of decay are now turning trees into CO2 faster than the forest can grow back. Chart data provided in Canada's official national greenhouse gas inventory, plus recent wildfire data from the European Union's Earth Observation Program. Report from the National Observer.

As we continued biking southward toward Tadoussac, the health of the forests seemed to improve. We were back in the mountains, and there was less sandy soil and fewer scrubby Jack Pines. The trees were healthier, and the forest was more diverse. There were large deciduous trees mixed among the pines. We were passing through indigenous reservations. Perhaps the reservations managed their forests better? Or maybe the climatic and geographic conditions were more hospitable as we went south?

Beach at Pessamit (formerly Betsiamites or Bersimis) is a First Nations reserve and Innu community in the Canadian province of Quebec, located about 50 kilometers southwest of Baie-Comeau along the north shore of the Saint Lawrence River at the mouth of the Betsiamites River. It is across the river directly north of Rimouski, Quebec. It belongs to the Pessamit Innu Band. Photo by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

As we approached the town of Tadoussac, we saw that we were also approaching two significant national parks: the Saguenay Fjord National Park and the Saguenay–Saint Lawrence Marine Park. The national park is made up of several hundred miles of forested mountains on both sides of the Saguenay River, and the Marine Park are all the waters that flow from Saguenay to the Saint Lawrence, where the towns of Tadoussac and Baie Saint-Catherine are separated by the Saguenay River and connected by a ferry.

Overlooking the Bay of Saint Lawrence facing toward the Gaspe Peninsula. This view is on dunes just north of Tadoussac, where Jenny and I watched a small school of Fin Whales as they frolicked off the rocky beach. Photo by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Both towns are whale-watching paradises. While the national park is vast and stunning with cliff faces, extraordinary peaks and valleys, beautiful streams, and magnificent fjords, it took us a few days to appreciate the significance of the marine park since it exists on and below the surface of the water. However, the Saguenay-Saint Lawrence Marine Park is one of the most biodiverse marine environments in the world. It is one of the best places in the world for whale watching, as well as seals and sea birds that travel thousands of miles to feed. The park also protects over 2,000 wild species, from microscopic algae to the gigantic blue whale. Above the water, the Fjord National Park is a place of unparalleled scenic beauty.

Photo taken about a mile from Saint Rose du Nord at Anse de la Decsente des Femmes, a small fjord on the vast Sagueney-Saint Lawrence Marine Park. Photo by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Some days ago, Jenny and I watched PBS’s Newshour online in a motel in Quebec when we learned that no Republican candidate had raised their hand during the first GOP debate when the candidates were asked who among them thinks climate change is caused by human behavior. We couldn’t watch the debate in Canada, so please forgive us if we are mistaken. If that is true - especially after the torrent of extreme weather events we’ve experienced this year - I’m embarrassed as an American that any person seeking a political office in the US would deny something so well understood by scientists. No other party anywhere in the world rejects the science of climate change as overtly as the GOP. According to a report by the Center for American Progress, 139 members of Congress deny climate science, including 109 representatives and 30 senators.

Canada’s Conservative Party isn’t much better, having recently agreed to remove language from their platform that would have recognized climate change as real. Yet, their party leader, Erin O’Toole, has said he does not want Conservative candidates to be branded as “climate change deniers” in the next election cycle. However, some Canadian conservatives have expressed concerns that such statements will undermine their party’s interests in the oil and gas sector.

Politicians in the States are even friendlier to Big Oil. 85% of political contributions in the States from fossil fuel companies go to Republicans, with the exception of Democrat Joe Manchin, who receives more contributions from the industry than any other Congressional leader in history (he received almost $1M in donations from fossil fuel companies in 2022). That means that contributions to Manchin and Republicans are more than 90% of the total dollars contributed to Congressional Politicians by the fossil fuel industry. And the party is still led by an even more extreme presumptive leader who considers climate change to be a “Chinese hoax.”

Lily lives between her two motels in Gaspe and Cap-des-Rosiers, Quebec, with her husband, Sparky, and their two young boys, Kevin and Andrew. She and Sparky left their village in China ten years ago after applying to Canadian customs as a skilled worker. Jenny asked her, “What’s your skill?” Lily answered she had been a marketing professor at a college in China. She and Sparky learned French, opened a bodega in Quebec City, and slowly built up their business. One day, a customer came into their store and told them about an opportunity to own a motel in Gaspe at the eastern end of Quebec. Liking what they had heard, they drove hours out to the east end of the Gaspe Peninsula. The rest is history. Lily’s quiet demeanor didn’t fool Jenny. She could see that Lily knew what she was doing. Jenny commended her on being such a good businesswoman. She laughed and said, “Oh no, no, no. I’m a terrible businesswoman.” Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

When you follow the money, there is an indisputable link between climate change denial and contributions to politicians from fossil fuel companies. Climate denial is not about science. It’s about greed. And it has always been about greed. There is now abundant evidence that fossil fuel companies have known for years their product is responsible for climate change. Projections created internally by ExxonMobil starting in the late 1970s on the impact of fossil fuels on climate change were very accurate, even surpassing the predictions of some academic and governmental scientists, according to an analysis published in Science. Despite those forecasts, ExxonMobil continued to sow doubt about the impact of greenhouse gas emissions on climate, successfully waging an obfuscation and disinformation campaign that has slowed down the global effort to decarbonize. ExxonMobil is not alone; these tactics are stubbornly similar for all major multinational fossil fuel companies and have been so for decades. And they are all still at it, although they are now changing their tactics. Major oil and gas companies are learning their lies are not playing well in some court cases and, as a result, are once again willing to admit that fossil fuel emissions cause climate change.

Here’s an example. In September of 2023, ExxonMobil released a cheerful report to their shareholders projecting a vision for how fossil fuels will help to create a more livable and prosperous world for 10 billion people by 2050. The report also tells shareholders that greenhouse gas emissions will drop 25% by 2050 through increases in low-carbon technologies. The report also says, “larger reductions are needed to keep global warming from exceeding 2C, according to the United Nations Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC).” Exxon Mobil makes no pretense in this report that emissions from fossil fuels don’t cause global warming. At the same time, the report completely ignores what climate scientists are telling us about the consequences of surpassing 2C of warming. Although their tactics are changing, the overall objective of fossil fuel companies remains steadfast: selling their product matters more than decarbonizing. In other words, their position directly conflicts with what science tells us we need to do. You can read the report here.

We met Larry at a rest stop in Grande-Valle on our way to the village of Gaspe at the very end of the Gaspe Peninsula. Larry is a strikingly handsome 64-year-old man from Quebec City. He now lives in his van, which he runs on vegetable oil. On the roof was a solar panel. Flashing a charming smile, Larry declined our lunch offer and proudly told us he had caught a striped bass earlier that morning, which he planned on eating momentarily. Although our French is poor and Larry’s English was limited, we talked long enough to realize that Larry is a proponent of the “deep state” resistance common to QAnon followers. We were surprised and almost intrigued by his passion as Larry shared his disbelief in climate change and vaccines, claiming they were creations of a government run by a Cabal pursuing world domination. He claimed there are three kinds of people - globalists (bad guys), technocrats (also bad guys), and nationalists (good guys). He spoke highly of the movie “The Sound Of Freedom” (a true, if not embellished, story about rescuing children from international trafficking that the far right has embraced). Larry explained we must watch it to understand what is really happening. As we were preparing to leave, Jenny asked Larry, “Do you think the earth is flat?” He paused and then answered, “I don’t know.” I am no longer sure what is true and what isn’t.” Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @ deeofo.

I enjoyed meeting Larry. Although I disagreed with almost everything he believed, I liked him for reasons I didn’t entirely understand. And I felt that he liked Jenny and me. In some way that provoked my compassion, I thought he was lost in our dizzyingly complex world. And he said something toward the end of our conversation that persists in my memory: “We need to resist. There are those who want to control us. We can’t let them.” I almost instinctively replied, “Yes, and they are large multinational corporations that control fossil fuels, who buy off the politicians you support, who then tell you ridiculous things you believe that make ordinary people like you and me disagree about who is doing what to whom, even when we both feel we are being done to.”

But I didn’t say that. Yet, at that moment, I felt that QAnon Larry wasn’t my enemy; he was my comrade. His feelings make total sense, even if his facts don’t. He knows something is wrong and can feel it will likely worsen. He is confused and disoriented by how quickly things are changing. Others are telling him the underlying problems, and they seem to know what they are talking about. Some of them are very successful. And their passion and confidence are so attractive. It’s a relief to agree with them. And why not? It’s better than “not knowing.”

Later that evening, I did what many of us do when we want an answer. I searched the internet for something that would help me understand. And I found an article that spoke to the feelings Larry had provoked in me. Suzanne Shelton published an article in 2020 in Greenbiz titled: “If people will believe in QAnon, why won’t they believe in climate change?" Shelton begins by imagining how plausible a QAnon conspiracy pitch might be to a Hollywood Producer: "So, half the politicians in Washington, and many in the entertainment industry, are leading a Satanic cult, kidnapping children and forcing them into a shadowy underworld of sex trafficking. These terrible villains sometimes kill the children to extract their adrenaline to make themselves younger and more powerful. You’re the president of the United States, recruited specifically to run for president so that you can destroy this evil plan. Many people in this terrifying cult will try to stop you — accusing you of courting foreign interference in your election, trying to impeach you, even throwing a pandemic your way. But you will not be stopped!"

I could see Larry’s narrative in the pitch. And, as Suzanne Shelton suggests, I thought maybe - just maybe - Larry would feel just as comfortable over here on our side among those of us who are fighting for a livable planet. Perhaps he’s just been hanging out with the wrong crowd. So what appeals to the feelings of people who believe QAnon conspiracies that climate change activists might be able to appropriate? How might I convert Larry to an evidence-based, scientific understanding of reality that feels emotionally familiar but is actually based on the truth? Shelton suggests three simple ideas that appear to drive conspiracy theorists that might help recruit them to evidence-based conspiracies.

1) Save the children: No matter what one believes politically, we all care about our kids and are wired to look out for them. For QAnon followers, children are threatened by a global cabal of wealthy elites (primarily Jewish, but now a tad more racially diverse) who want to capture them and harvest adrenochrome from their blood (related to adrenaline, adrenochrome is mistakenly thought to enhance longevity). For climate activists, the world’s children are inheriting a climate that will grow so challenging it may tear society apart in the coming decades unless greenhouse gas emissions are reduced very quickly.

2) Evil is real: For QAnon followers, evil is the threat of world domination by influential people who want to subjugate others for their personal gain. The cabal not only wants your children, it wants to dominate you and strip you of your fundamental human freedoms. For climate activists, evil is greed, the ever-present greed of corporations, political leaders, and other powerful people who lie to you about greenhouse gas emissions so they can continue to make money or be supported by the money others make.

3) A clear enemy: For QAnon, it’s the cabal, elites, globalists, socialists, communists, Democrats, and woke people in general. For Climate Activists, it’s fossil fuel companies, corrupt and ignorant politicians, professional climate deniers, and those who otherwise get in the way of the transition to cleaner forms of energy.

Jenny and Michael on the Gaspe Peninsula. Photos by Michael Chase and Jenny Hershey, respectively. Follow Michael Chase on Instagram @mjohnsonchase and Jenny Hershy on Instagram @deeofo.

The Great Climate Conspiracy

Imagine an alternate reality not too distant from our own, where one conspiracy theory has overtaken all others. It isn't about elections, global elites, or pandemics. Instead, this conspiracy theory revolves around the earth's climate and a cover-up by a powerful cabal of fossil fuel magnates, politicians, and media moguls. For decades, this cabal buried concrete evidence linking greenhouse gas emissions to devastating climatic changes. Documents leaked from prominent oil conglomerates proved that this conspiracy had established the link between fossil fuel consumption and climate degradation as early as three decades earlier. However, instead of acting responsibly, these companies launched massive disinformation campaigns, investing billions of dollars to sow doubt about the science of climate change and keep the global population in the dark. The cabal of fossil fuel executives, media moguls, and corrupt (or just gullible) politicians ensured that environmentally friendly initiatives were undermined at every turn. This vast network of influence allowed the oil and gas industry to suppress vital information and label environmental advocates, sympathetic politicians, and even climate scientists as alarmists, conspirators, communists, or whatever else would discredit them and their efforts.

However, the physical manifestations of climate change eventually became undeniable. Record-breaking heat, hurricanes, typhoons, cyclones, wildfires, droughts, sea level rise, storm surges, melting glaciers, agricultural collapses, climate refugees, the collapse of the insurance industry, a sharp reduction in world GDP, global starvation, and many other forms of suffering began to turn the tide. Unlike the far-right conspiracies of the past three decades in the United States, this theory suddenly gained bipartisan traction. It became a movement. Protests and rallies became daily occurrences in major cities worldwide. The Great Climate Conspiracy overshadowed others because it had the power to unify; it wasn't about left or right but about the survival of the planet and future generations. The demand for a cleaner, sustainable future became the rallying cry against those who had allegedly sought to endanger it for profit. The world finally rolled up its sleeves and got to work building green economies. Eventually, greenhouse gas emissions were controlled and phased out. The planet showed signs it would slowly heal. Interestingly, people were less interested in consumption and more interested in the quality of their lives. They grew happy again.

And they lived happily ever after.

Stay vigilant! Thanks for reading. If you haven’t done so, please subscribe to this blog to follow our next biking trip.

Blog writing by Michael Chase. Drawings by Jenny Hershey. Unless credited or otherwise noted, all material is the copyrighted property of the blog post authors.

Here are a few more photos from our trip:

Clouds forming over the Saguenay - Saint Lawrence Marine Park. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instgram @mjohnsonchase.

Photo taken from the porch of a yurt we stayed in at Saint Rose du Nord on the Saguenay River. The river below is part of the maritime park, and the hills above are part of the national park. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjonsonchase.

Seen just north of L’Islet, on the Gaspe Peninsula. Photo by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

The climate march to the United Nations Plaza in New York City on September 17, 2023. Photo by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Michael Johnson-Chase 7/6/23 Michael Johnson-Chase 7/6/23

Free Markets, Wildfires and Conspiracy Theories; Biking Ontario and Quebec

Jenny and I met Dave in Fitzroy Harbor, Ontario. An 80-year-old retired cop from St. Catherine, he was selling organic produce from his garden at a roadside stand. Dave lives alone in a small trailer tending his “Garden of Eden” and described himself as a DP (displaced person). He showed Jenny where a teenager shot off a small chunk of his ear with a buckshot rifle. When we asked him about the wildfires further north, Dave replied without hesitation, “They were set intentionally by the government so they can develop the land up north. It will make them money on property taxes. And it's where they plan on putting all the immigrants.” When we asked him where the immigrants would find jobs if they lived on cleared land up north, he replied, “It’s a socialist country, so they won't work anyway.” He went on, “That's why the government says it's climate change - they blame it on something we can't do anything about, and that's how they get away with it.” Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram @deeofo.

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Free Markets

“All truth passes through three stages. First, it is ridiculed. Second, it is violently opposed. Third, it is accepted as being self-evident.”

-Arthur Schopenhauer

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Writing by Michael Chase, Drawings by Jenny Hershey

Jenny and I planned our next cycling tour for late June as we rode the train back to New York City last May from Little Rock, Arkansas (read a post about that trip here). Since neither of us had ever been to Ottawa, and because summer is a great time to cycle in Canada, we decided to ride our bikes northwest around the Adirondacks from Albany into Ontario and Quebec. We had no idea what it would be like, but we guessed it would as interesting as it might be challenging. Of course, we reconsidered when New York City broke air quality records because of wildfires in Ontario and Quebec; but decided to go after learning that poor air quality is as determined by wind currents as it is by proximity to wildfires. Our hunches were accurate, and although we grappled with poor air quality in both Ontario and Quebec, we kept reading it was worse in the States. And, of course, we were aware that many others are also suffering from extreme heat in the American south. It’s been a rough summer all around. Like so many other aspects of climate change, there’s nowhere to hide from increasing weather extremes.

Jenny and I started our trip in Albany after taking Amtrak from NYC. We couldn't ferry into Canada at Cape Vincent because the ferry captain retired during the pandemic, and no one has replaced him. Consequently, we had to ride northeast 30 miles to the Alexandria Bay crossing and walk several miles on a narrow pedestrian walkway on the American side. We then rode illegally across another bridge into Canada from Wellesley Island (no one told us not to at Canadian customs). From there, Jenny and I headed north toward the Ottawa River, hopscotching between Ontario and Quebec. We encountered the worst air quality from the Canadian wildfires in the orange areas. We ended the trip in Syracuse, where we took a train back to NYC. Altogether we biked about 1000 miles. Map drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram @deeofo.

Some other things needed to happen before we left. In addition to personal care, home projects, and catching up with friends and family, there was a Citizens Climate Lobby (CCL) conference in early June followed by a day of lobbying Congress in Washington, DC. This was CCL’s first in-person lobbying effort since the pandemic, attended by almost 1000 environmentalists from all over the country. Over 465 visits to both Republican and Democratic members of Congress to lobby for climate policies were made in one well-orchestrated day. I joined small teams of other citizen lobbyists to visit with the staffs of NYC Representatives Nydia Velasquez, Ritchie Torres, Adriano Espaillat and Hakim Jeffries. Although there is predictable resistance to the GOP’s continuing agenda to weaken the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA) and the GOP’s ongoing support for fossil fuels, CCL lobbyists are now able to argue that market forces overwhelmingly favor clean energy over fossil fuels. The clean energy marketplace has found its groove, and if we trust that open competition in a truly free market will deliver the highest quality products for the lowest possible prices, then clean energy will indeed emerge victorious as long as the playing field is even. Renewables are already cheaper than coal, and will soon be cheaper than natural gas (even without factoring in the social costs of carbon emissions and air pollution). Consequently, Republican insistence that oil and gas deserves greater subsidy support than clean energy (usually in the name of “market based parity”) is a less serious threat to long term decarbonization goals than it has ever been.

Tree overlooking Lake Ontario. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

Consequently, the overriding concern of CCL lobbyists for this year is permitting reform (with a secondary emphasis on CCL’s signature carbon dividend policy with its carbon border adjustments, or CBAM’s). Both issues are heavy lifts in our polarized political atmosphere, although there is a reasonable chance that both parties might come together in the next Congress to pass meaningful legislation. Effective permitting reform will speed up the permitting process for clean energy projects and streamline the buildout of transmission lines. It will also preserve the input of local communities around quality energy projects, provide lasting jobs and ensure the safety and welfare of American citizens. For Republicans, permitting reform will give all energy projects a bump, including carbon capture, utilization and storage (CCUS), hydrogen manufacturing, and even small modular nuclear reactors.

The sun sets over a bay in Lake Ontario in the middle of June south of Cape Vincent, New York, where the headwaters of the St. Lawrence River begin. The sky seemed clear the day we were there, but this picture indicates there might have been some wildfire smoke in the air. Photo by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

All combined, electric utility grids in the US currently transmit approximately one Terawatt of electricity every day. Yet, because permitting new projects now takes as long as four years, there is a large backlog of 1.4 Terrawatts of potential energy waiting to be permitted, so we already have the potential capacity to double the amount of electricity available for our rapidly electrifying energy economy over the coming years. And well over 85% of all project applications in the queue are clean energy projects! This means that if ALL the energy projects (meaning fossil fuel and clean energy projects combined) waiting in the queue were green-lighted today, our energy mix will shift so dramatically toward clean energy that we will make significant progress toward decarbonizing our economy.

So, in one sense, there is very little reason anymore to fight over what NOT to build, and environmentalists can relax a bit because the momentum is on our side. What we can’t relax about, however, is advocating for citizen engagement in the permitting reform process. Whether clean or dirty, the siting, scale and development of new energy projects and transmission lines may result in public health and environmental injustices, eminent domain conflicts, and biodiversity losses and degradation. Local communities should be closely involved in reviews, revisions, and approvals wherever necessary. It’s also time for wealthier communities to step away from historic forms of “not in my backyard” (NIMBY-ism) and accept solar farms, windmills, transmission lines (and even CO2 pipelines and underground storage) into their own neighborhoods. In every way - both good and bad - it’s important for the impacts of the next great energy revolution to be shared equally.

Jeff Mills is a resident of Lanark County in Ontario, Canada. We met him while biking on the Ottawa Valley Recreational Trail (OVRT). A lifelong community developer, Jeff helps to create great biking infrastructure in Lanark and Renfrew Counties. He (and his colleagues) envision a system of rail-trails similar to the Greater Allegheny Passage (GAP Trail) that runs from Pittsburgh, PA to Cumberland, MD. The hope is to create a bicycling destination with global appeal that will help revitalize small communities in northeastern Ontario. Between the OVRT and the Algonquin Trail, they have an excellent start! We were lucky enough to spend a wonderful evening at Jeff’s beautiful home with his lovely wife Gillian and his friends Chandler and Mike. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @ deepfo.

That isn’t to say that the oil and gas lobby, and the politicians in their pockets, won’t engage in mind-boggling attempts to stop that momentum. Republican politicians in some red states are seeing clean energy handwriting on the wall, and they don’t like it. In fact, the legislatures in both Texas and Florida have recently tried to stop the growth of clean energy projects in their states. Thankfully, because investments in clean energy in both states are so strong (and led by many registered Republicans), the Chambers of Commerce and other business groups, local municipalities, environmentalists, public health advocates and investors have prevailed in their fight against these legislatures to preserve the workings of the free market. It isn’t hard to understand why. According to research by Energy Innovation as reported by David Wallace-Wells in a recent New York Times Op Ed, green energy tax credits in the Inflation Reduction Act are poised to create more than 100,000 jobs in Texas alone by 2030 — which would add more than $15 billion to the state economy over that time. And similar gains are estimated in Florida, where Energy Innovation projects more than 85,000 new jobs and $10 billion in state G.D.P. gains by 2030.

Michael bikes across a covered bridge in Mansfield et Pontefract, Quebec. Photo by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @ deeofo.

But it’s not just a couple of red states that are being forced to capitulate to the self-evidence of market forces. Other parts of the world are willing to get serious about the energy transition, as well. China remains focused on cornering the huge new clean energy market, with ever-more massive investments in electric vehicle production, battery technology, wind turbines and solar panels. Europe continues to aggressively wean itself off both oil (through electric vehicle mandates) and Russian gas imports (through energy conservation and the rapid deployment of renewables). Canada established a price on carbon several years ago to incentivize clean energy development. Currently, 90% of the revenue from a federal fuel charge goes directly back to households through the climate action incentive payment (CAIP). This is a tax-free benefit the government pays back to citizens to help offset the cost of carbon pricing. The average household gets back more than they’ve paid into the system. Only higher income households pay more than they get back because they tend to use more fossil fuels.

Al is a retired policeman from Ottawa. We met him in Renfrew while he was tending his garden. He was eager to chat and showed us a stone house from 1865 he had purchased from a family that had acquired homesteading land from the Crown seven generations earlier. Al was proud of his antique collection. Eventually we asked about the wildfires. He believes the fires were most likely started by carelessness, and maybe some lightening. He hedged about the climate but eventually agreed with us the climate is changing. A very friendly guy, Al sent us off with a classic milk bottle and a horseshoe for luck (both somewhat challenging to carry on our bikes, but he was insistent). Michael gave the milk bottle away to our host Jeff Mills, and Jenny left the horseshoe at a farm stand with a couple of Mennonite boys, telling them it might bring good luck. Their father quickly corrected Jenny, saying Mennonites don't believe in luck. But the boys kept the horseshoe anyway. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

So for all the reasons above, Democrats and other environmentalists in the States don’t need to worry as much about opposing fossil fuel projects as they need to be thinking about getting stuff built, not only to address climate but to keep our economy strong. Yet make no mistake; building out clean energy projects in the United Sates and getting that energy to residents and industries won’t be an easy task, even if that energy is already cheaper and cleaner than fossil fuels. Without a serious effort to streamline permitting and double the size of our utility grid over the next decade (while effectively engaging communities in decision making), we may fail to accomplish up to 80% of the decarbonization goals of the Inflation Reduction Act (IRA).

This photo was taken northwest of Fort Coulonge, Quebec, on an unpaved road called the Chemin du Bois Franc. The road extends north for more than a hundred kilometers and is one of many rugged routes into Quebec’s boreal forest. Although we weren't able to ride north on this road for more than about 20 kilometers we felt like we got a small taste of the forest. It was humid, extremely buggy, and although we were told it was unusually dry, we saw water everywhere. Not only is Canada’s boreal forest rich with trees that sequester huge amounts of carbon, it is also home to one of the most significant stores of fresh water on the planet. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

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Wildfires and Conspiracy Theories

“No amount of evidence will ever persuade an idiot.”

-Mark Twain

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We met “Andy” and his wife “Carol” in Cape Vincent, NY. “Carol” invited us down to the Lake Ontario shoreline to share a sunset made even more intense by wildfire smoke drifting toward us from Quebec. As we talked, “Andy” began to share thoughts about how a group of elites from around the world are plotting to eliminate individual liberties to impose a dictatorial, one-world government. He threw out some names: Klaus Schwab, Rothschild, Mayer, Zuckerberg, Bill Gates…. We were curious and a bit uneasy. So, later in the evening Jenny and I did an internet search. “Andy’s” searches probably go directly to “The Great Reset Conspiracy” attributed to the World Economic Forum (WEF); a conspiracy of world control by a select few through Covid mandates, climate lockdowns, space lasers, and ecoterrorism. “Andy” may assume everyone else will find the same information if they bother to look. But that’s a danger of the internet and misinformation. Search engines learn how to show you results you are most likely to like to maximize your eyeballs on associated advertising. Consequently, whatever information we encounter online, we curate online through our own interests and biases. So, Jenny and I had to do some digging. Apparently “Andy” didn’t notice the Star of David around Jenny’s neck; in any case, she didn’t sleep well that evening. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

As we are all too aware, Canadian wildfires have been burning for weeks. Research shows that record heat and drought creates earlier starts to every season (with this year breaking all records), resulting in wildfire activity that is longer-lasting and more intense. Caused by a mix of human activity (carelessness and arson), and lightning, it is clear that climate change affects the local conditions and fuel available for these fires to spread, as do the decades of fire suppression techniques that have contributed to unnaturally dense forest environments.

This simple bar graph indicates that by the end of June of this year, a greater percentage of hectares have already burned in Canada than any year since records have been kept. Some news outlets argue that climate change isn't the cause of wildfires because the number of annual fires has been decreasing. However, they all ignore the sheer size and destructive nature of the current fires.

New Yorkers won’t soon forget what the air quality was like on June 7th, 2023. At its peak in the afternoon, the air quality index (AQI) for the city reached 405 out of 500; the highest since records began, according to an analysis of the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA). While we have been biking in Canada over the month of June, over 400 wildfires have continued to drive air quality indexes to record levels in many cities across the eastern seaboard and the midwest. Air quality has been equally poor in Canada. Yesterday (7/2/23), four of the five cities with the worst air quality in the world were in North America. New York City had the second-worst air quality in the world with a recorded air quality index of 162, lagging only behind Jakarta. Toronto and Montreal ranked 3rd and 4th, reporting AQI’s of 155 and 153, respectively. The fifth-ranked city, Washington, D.C., is hundreds of miles away from where Canadian wildfires continue to rage. There, air quality was slightly better than the other three North American cities on the list, with an AQI of 122.

Almost 40 per cent of Canada’s 2023 wildfires have been in Quebec, threatening to evacuate more than 15,000 people. Photo: Société de protection des forêts contre le feu; as seen in The Narwhal.

Ten percent of the world’s forests rise up from Canadian soil, and increasingly those forests look poised to burn as our atmosphere grows warmer. Consider the following passage from a poetic and startling new book by John Vaillant called Fire Weather: “Girdling the Northern Hemisphere in a circumpolar band, the boreal forest is the largest terrestrial ecosystem, comprising almost a third of the planet’s total forest area (more than 6 million square miles—larger than all fifty U.S. states). Fully a third of Canada is covered by boreal forest. Continuing west, over the Rocky Mountains, through British Columbia, the Yukon, Alaska, and across the Bering Strait into Russia (where it is known as the taiga), the boreal forest stretches all the way to Scandinavia and then makes landfall on Iceland before picking up again in Newfoundland and continuing westward to complete the circle. It is a green wreath crowning the globe. This colossal biome stores as much, if not more, carbon than all tropical forests combined and, when it burns, it goes off like a carbon bomb. Under the right conditions, a big boreal fire can come on like the end of the world, roaring and unstoppable. These are fires that can burn thousands of square miles of forest along with everything in it, and still be out of control.”

The scale is hard to get my head around. You may feel the same. And if that wasn't sobering enough, here's another important milestone; fires across Canada this year have ALREADY generated nearly 600 million tons of CO2, which is equivalent to 88% of Canada’s total greenhouse gas emissions from all sources in 2021. More than half of that carbon pollution went up in wildfire smoke in June alone. And the fire season here is only beginning.

Jenny (left) and Chandler Swain. We met Chandler at our dinner with Jeff and Gillian Mills. Chandler is a master potter, artist, environmental activist and communications director for the Climate Network in Lanark County, Ontario. Although Jenny rarely draws herself, she felt a strong bond with Chandler, whose enthusiasm, tenacity and buoyant energy is infectious. Chandler’s passion for environmental work has led her to write about network initiatives for the local online paper, The Humm. Her personal website can be found here. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram @deeofo.

And the causes of the fires? Well, as we discovered through our conversations with some Canadians (but not all, thankfully), blaming wildfires on the unusually hot and dry conditions resulting from a gradually warming world brought on by 250 years of unrelenting greenhouse gas emissions is, well, a bit too convenient. After all, why buy into dry weather that makes human carelessness or lightning strikes the reason (but not the root cause) when you can believe in something far less complex? Stew Peters, the same man who made a film claiming that Covid-19 is caused by synthetic snake venom, blamed the Canadian wildfires on Directed Energy Weapons on June 5th of this year. Apparently he sent out a TikTok video with visuals that made southeast Quebec appear as though hundreds of locations were catching on fire at the same time. This allowed him to claim that “our governments” are targeting their own forests for nefarious reasons.

I'm not sure if Directed Energy Weapons (DEWs) are related to the infamous Jewish Space Lasers that Congressional Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene previously implicated in a wildfire outbreak, but it's clear her theory is followed. Here it is on Donald Trump’s Truth Social. According to the Congresswoman, forests don’t catch fire simply because they are extraordinarily hot and dry. Representative Greene claimed the blazes had been started by PG&E in conjunction with the Rothschilds, by using a space laser to clear room for a high-speed rail project. Really, one cannot make this stuff up. For those of you who don’t believe me, you can read Greene’s entire post here on Media Matters.

We stayed in Alain and Paola’s small cabin behind their home in Mansfield-et-Pontefract. Alain is a retired postman. He started his route after graduating from high school when he was 16 years old. His dad was a supervisor and he wanted to follow in his father's footsteps. Alain walked 20 Km (12 miles) a day, year round, using ice cleats to navigate cold, icy winters for over 40 years. Each neighborhood he serviced brought new friendships and relationships. Alain said, “I don’t get attached easily, but the old folks - they’d wait all day for me. I was sometimes the only person they talked to. It was hard to walk away.” Alain is very devoted to his wife. He is also a superb Airbnb host with a simple philosophy—deliver hospitality! Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

But not all the theories borrow from Conspiracy mongers who make their homes in the States. Alberta Premier Danielle Smith (who is not friendly toward Canadian climate policies) was asked about the cause of Alberta wildfires in early June by Canadian talk show host Ryan Jespersen, and suggested that the more than 175 fires burning in Alberta at the time were all caused by arson, not climate change. Others in Canada have taken the arson theory a step further, indicating that the arsonists are Trudeau government operatives who are out to increase the federal carbon price.

Our friend Andy from Cape Vincent disturbed us with his reference to a cabal with mostly Jewish names, seemingly unaware that he (and others of his ilk) are dredging up the same anti-Jewish theories that preceded the Nazis and the rise of Hitler. “Anti-Jewish prejudice is very old – it goes back to antiquity – but the 19th century was crucial,” writes Matthias B. Lehmann, Teller Family Chair in Jewish History and professor of history at UCI, in The Baron: Maurice de Hirsch and the Jewish Nineteenth Century. “It was the moment when modern-day antisemitic conspiracy theories first crystallized, and those are still very much being used today.”

A view of the Coulonge River looking north. We were told that one of the smaller fires in Quebec was about 75 miles north of here. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

Sometimes the enemy is the U.S. government and Biden, or the Canadian government or Trudeau. Or it's a cabal of rich people connected to the World Economic Forum wanting to control the world. Or sometimes it’s wealthy people in general, especially if they are Jewish. Or blacks or Hispanics or Muslims. Or they might be communists or socialists. Or Democrats. Or LBGTQ people. Or Public Health officials. Recently it was the queen of England, believed by a number of people to be the head of a brutal global drug cartel. As Anna Merlen writes in her fascinating book, Republic of Lies, conspiracy theories are, in the end, not so much an explanation of events as they are an effort to assign blame. More than questioning an official narrative, they are aimed at identifying the real perpetrators, the true power behind the throne, the hidden hand pulling beneath the surface.

So, it almost seems quaint that a not-insignificant chorus of Canadians blame the current wildfires sweeping across much of the country on climate activists and laser-less government operatives willing to drive into the woods and strike a match. It’s those pesky arsonists, and not natural forces or human carelessness driven by a hotter and drier climate that’s the real culprit for all the choking smoke that has driven children, seniors and others with respiratory issues inside, blocking out the sun and making air nearly impossible to breathe.

Whoever, or whatever it is, it's likely to happen more and more often until well after we decarbonize our atmosphere.

Let's get on with it.

Stay vigilant! Thanks for reading. If you haven’t done so, please subscribe to this blog to follow our next biking trip.

Blog writing by Michael Chase. Drawings by Jenny Hershey. Unless credited or otherwise noted, all material is the copyrighted property of the blog post authors.

Here are a few more photos from the trip:

Michael enjoying one of Jenny’s extraordinary meals.Although Michael is a decent cook in his own right, Jenny has become an exceptional cook on the road, and we eat very well using local produce and protein and the microwaves we find in our modest accommodations. Photo by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

The Chutes de Coulonge on the Coulonge River in Quebec. Photo by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Jenny with a mosquito net over her head goofing around in Quebec. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

Michael Johnson-Chase 5/9/23 Michael Johnson-Chase 5/9/23

Water and a Pipeline; Biking Mississippi and Arkansas, Part 2

We met Jorge outside Jacksonville, Arkansas, just east of Conway. He graciously allowed us to fix a flat tire in his driveway, the third of seven flats we had on this trip. Jorge immigrated to Arkansas from San Luis Potosí, Mexico, 12 years ago, and enjoys a peaceful life with his wife and 4 kids. He told us he was “muy feliz.” He works a 9-5 job Monday through Friday in home construction, and spends the weekends with his kids doing sports. Jorge was a bicycle mechanic in Mexico and masterfully found the leak in our tube before we were even able to look. We were touched by his kindness.
Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

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“Caution is the eldest child of wisdom.”

- Victor Hugo

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Jenny and I planned our bicycling trip through the Ouachita Mountains in the Ozark High Country, following a route from Conway to Little Rock. From there, we will take an Amtrak train to visit family in Milwaukee and another train back home from Chicago to New York City. We used a map the American Cycling Association provided to guide us on our journey.

Writing by Michael Chase, Drawings by Jenny Hershey

After a very satisfying ride across Alabama and Mississippi and the extraordinary delta country of eastern Mississippi and Arkansas (the subjects of Post 1 in this series), we headed toward the Arkansas River and the Conway/Little Rock region of Arkansas. The Adventure Cycling Association has created an extraordinary tour of the Ozarks out of Little Rock that features northern and southern loops collectively called the Arkansas High Country Route.

Confidant that climate-related stories are now to be found anywhere and everywhere, we already knew about the deadly tornadoes of March 31, 2023, that had moved through a large portion of the south and midwest, including a particularly devastating tornado that hit North Little Rock, only one week after the Amory, Rolling Fork and Silver City tornadoes in Mississippi. Although we didn’t see the neighborhoods in North and West Little Rock devastated (nor the shopping center that took out a Trek Bike Shop, among other businesses), we saw large swaths of park damage on both sides of the Arkansas River. The North Little Rock tornado had winds up to 165 mph and a path length spanning 20-25 miles, which is unusually large. We thought we would likely see more tornado destruction (see Part 1 in this series). However, on our way to Lake Maumelle from Little Rock, we discovered a different water-related climate story that captured our interest.

It’s difficult to photograph the impact of a tornado in a natural setting, and we took many pictures we weren’t pleased with. We must have seen several hundred stumps in one area of Rebsamen Park in Little Rock. We captured these shots more than 5 weeks after the tornado hit. Workmen have been working nonstop to get debris cleared, and there are still many places in the park that are this damaged.

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Mayflower, Arkansas, is a small suburban development nestled between North Little Rock and Conway. You might remember the Pegasus Pipeline oil spill in 2013. Owned by ExxonMobil, and used to carry Canadian tar sands oil to the Gulf Coast, it ruptured and dumped approximately 10,000 gallons of tar sands oil into the Mayflower Northwoods subdivision.

A picture of the spill in 2013, as published in Inside Climate News. Credit:EPA.

Jenny and I were intrigued by this story (and its lack of a resolution, which I will get to later), so we chose to bike to Mayflower, Arkansas, to see the site of the spill for ourselves. Not surprisingly, ten years later there are no telltale signs of the spill short of a pipeline identification pole (see photo below). Yards blackened by oil that we had seen in other pictures are now green with grass and homes evacuated shortly after the spill look intact and peaceful with pickups and SUVs in the driveways. Among the only visible reminders of the leak are a couple of vacant plots on each side of a cul-de-sac at the corner of the neighborhood closest to the pipeline.

The gas pipeline marker sits next to the main road leading into the Northwoods subdivision of Mayflower, Arkansas. About 100 feet later, a road turns to the right and ends in a cul-de-sac partially visible to the right. These houses are the first things one sees. To our eye, all the houses on this street and many of the houses behind it are new and make up the bulk of the homes that were rebuilt as part of the settlement with ExxonMobil. Despite confidentiality agreements, several plaintiffs said that compensation for medical distress ranged from $2,000 to $15,000, depending on the proximity of the residents to the oil spill.
*To avoid confusion, please note the pipeline was renamed the Permian Express Pipeline after ExxonMobil sold it to Energy Transfer Partners, LLC (ETP) in 2018.*
Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

Most of the residents that live in the subdivision now did not live there in 2013. According to an article in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette, Meggie Hardcastle, who recently moved into a home near the spill site, said most people living on her street were also new to the area. Of the two locals we talked to, one had heard nothing about the possibility of the pipeline starting up again, and the other believed the entire pipeline had been replaced. Sadly, they are both wrong; I explain why later in this story.

Things were very different when the spill occurred. It required an immediate evacuation of 22 homes, killed hundreds of animals, and severely impacted the surrounding wetland habitat near the subdivision. Fortunately, the spill was rapidly contained through the efforts of fast-acting first responders, including firefighters, city employees, county road crews, and local police, who successfully blocked culverts to stop the oil from getting into the water system of nearby Lake Conway (an area enjoyed for its natural beauty and recreational opportunities).

Graphic courtesy of Inside Climate News.

Back in the Northwoods subdivision, a few hundred people were sickened by an odor that was almost thick enough to feel; the spilled oil was bitumen mixed with diluted hydrocarbons. Residents complained about headaches, diarrhea, swollen eyes, dry heaves, and burning lungs. But the full extent of the medical consequences didn’t come to light until 2017 when 708 pages of documents were finally released by the federal pipeline safety regulator known as the Pipeline and Hazardous Materials Safety Administration (PHMSA) after a protracted court battle where PHMSA and ExxonMobil squared off with a nonprofit watchdog group, the Pipeline Safety Trust.

Built in the 1940s, the current condition and usability of what is now called the Permian Basin Pipeline are unknown to the public. Although not in use since 2013, its current owner, Energy Transfer Partners, LLC, has no obligation to reveal any maintenance process or testing results, nor does it have to indicate if and when the pipeline is operational. In the fall of 2021, Energy Transfer Partners, LLC began testing the pipeline again for potential deployment. This map shows more detail about the pipeline’s location. The pipeline traverses 13 miles of the Lake Maumelle shoreline in Arkansas and runs through Lake Hamilton in Hot Springs.
Graphic courtesy of Inside Climate News.

Sealed depositions obtained by the trust detail the true depth of health concerns after the spill. More than two dozen Mayflower residents described serious physical and mental harm suffered due to the oil spill. Residents tossed out furniture and ripped up carpets that had become hopelessly steeped with the stench of oil. They talked about the unexplained death of pets and how they became afraid even to take walks through their neighborhood.

We met Hirty Hopper, a lifelong resident of Mayflower, in the Northwoods subdivision. Hirty is a mason and has been involved in masonry work on many homes following the oil spill. He trusted that the pipeline had been repaired, even telling us the entire pipeline had been rebuilt (it hasn’t). Hirty’s greater concern was seeing the construction completed on a railroad overpass nearby. He explained that the subdivision was only remotely accessible to the nearest hospital. It was located near a railroad track with so few crossings that ambulances couldn’t access the subdivision quickly enough, causing deaths because the wait was so long. “Six people passed,” he told us.
Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Settlements between homeowners, sickened residents, and ExxonMobil took years. The Arkansas Democrat-Gazette reported that, as part of its effort to address the spill, ExxonMobil ultimately purchased and rebuilt 31 homes in the subdivision and demolished at least three. It took the court system about six years to reach a final accounting. Along the way, PHMSA filed violations against ExxonMobil and attempted to fine them. For years before the Mayflower disaster, ExxonMobil had conducted multiple tests which uncovered more than ten ruptures or leaks along the pipeline. According to PHMSA, ExxonMobil failed to address those concerns, although the reports are still unavailable to the public, and the complaint is shrouded in secrecy. However, a federal appeals court sided with ExxonMobil when the oil giant stated, “There is no proof its actions contributed to the spill.” Then, in a ruling that astonished me when I read about it, the court found that ExxonMobil had followed the law in conducting adequate inspections and analysis in accordance with federal regulations and that“despite adherence to safety regulations and guidelines, oil spills still do occur.”

Think about that. The court essentially ruled that pipelines DO and WILL fail - just like any other form of plumbing. Yet, when they do, operating companies may not be held culpable. If they have followed regulatory laws (often legislated by federal and state governments that are anti-regulatory) and the pipelines fail, operators can walk away scot-free. Unfortunately, when that happens, the public is stuck with a lasting burden of recovery that goes well beyond token gestures of compensation by offending parties.

I wish I could say that such outcomes create greater awareness among the public that weak regulations and self-interested companies are not to be trusted. Companies will do what is right for them, but not necessarily what is right. If the law won’t stop them and they can make money doing it, they will do as much damage as possible until a disaster unfolds. Yet, I am often struck by the passivity of those at risk, like the Northwoods resident who lived through the previous spill and assumes the pipeline will never be used again.

Lake Dardanelle is near the Arkansas River, slightly northwest of Dardanelle, Arkansas. Photo by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @ deeofo.

In the fall of 2019, after Energy Transfer Partners (ETP) had purchased the pipeline from ExxonMobil and renamed it the Permian Express Pipeline, they notified Central Arkansas Water that they planned to start testing it again for potential use. Central Arkansas Water is the utility that supplies drinking water to approximately half a million residents in the Little Rock metropolitan region. It draws water from the Lake Maumelle watershed and smaller tributaries fed by the Maumelle River. Built in the late 1940s (well before the Northwoods subdivision existed), ETP’s newly named Permian Express Pipeline also skirts along 13 miles of shoreline of Lake Maumelle. Along this stretch, the pipeline crosses bodies of water, including tributary streams and wetlands at 13 points. In addition, several sections of pipe near the lake are above ground, making them more susceptible to damage.

Gary is a 62-year-old log hauler from Clarksville, Arkansas. We met him on Petite Jean Mountain in the Ouachita Mountain west of Little Rock (pronounced like Wichita, except it is Watch-i-ta). Gary was adjusting his brakes under a truck carrying a large load of timber. Gary has been hauling logs for almost 30 years. Still, when Hurricane Harvey hit Houston, he and his wife headed west to help communities by hauling away debris and offering emotional family support. Gary loves to hunt wild turkeys. When we asked Gary about his age, he laughed and told us he was like an overworked mule, “rode hard and put up wet.” He sincerely asked us, “How could we stand living in a city as big as New York?” Jenny launched into her appreciation for the diversity of her neighborhood in New York, and that’s when he told us how much he enjoyed helping diverse folks in Houston after Hurricane Harvey hit. As different as our lives are, we enjoyed learning about our shared values.
Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Find her on Instagram @deeofo.

Surprisingly, ETP is not required by law to disclose whether it conducts tests or if it reopens the pipeline. Notifying the water utility about its intention to conduct tests suggests the company is interested, at least, in the appearance of good public relations. However, it has not been willing to divulge its long-term intentions. The water utility and various community environmental groups have openly worried that the company might consider reopening the pipeline. After all, the stakes are quite high - a pipeline failure within the Lake Maumelle watershed could have catastrophic consequences for the half million people who use the water supply.

In 2020, officials from Central Arkansas Water sent letters to ETP offering to discuss the potential purchase of the section of pipeline that runs through the watershed, but they never heard back.

Stock photo of Lake Maumelle, the reservoir that is the source of drinking water for Little Rock and the water utility Central Arkansas Water. We visited the lake on our last day in Little Rock and tried to find an access point for a photograph but were unsuccessful, so we had to settle for this photo found in Google Images.

The most recent accounting of what might happen with the pipeline is an article in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette, dated March 27, 2023 (ironically, on the same weekend that media was hyper-focused on the North Little Rock tornado). The Gazette interviewed Raven Lawson, the watershed protection manager at Central Arkansas Water, who said, “The possibility of the pipeline reopening is a top concern.” If oil begins to flow through the pipeline again, Lawson said she believed it would not be a question of "if" but "when" the conduit would rupture again. However, Max Shilstone, director of government affairs for ETP, told Central Arkansas Water in a letter dated May 23, 2022, that his company has "no plans to bring the pipeline back into service at this time." Shilstone said "current market conditions" did not warrant restarting the conduit but noted his company would "continue to maintain the pipeline in a safe, idle condition. Should circumstances involving the pipeline and its future use change, we will communicate with interested parties, of which Central Arkansas Water would be included.”

So, the people who use Central Arkansas Water must wait passively, trusting that ETP will do the right thing. Let’s hope it goes that way. I think it’s unlikely that ETP has plans to run oil through the Permian Express Pipeline. They are more likely to use the pipeline to transport liquified natural gas (LGN) to the Gulf Coast. A methane leak would be less harmful to waterways, making public relations issues more manageable (methane emission disasters are harder to detect and less likely to gain media attention).

However, I think it is even more likely that ETP is quietly testing the pipeline as they bide their time until they can use the pipeline to transport CO2 or hydrogen. Unless the GOP's recent budget ploy successfully results in repealing the recent hike in 45Q tax credits as provided by the Inflation Reduction Act (see our recent blog post for an explanation), the financial rewards for transporting those materials may be quite remunerative. And while that effort might help decarbonization efforts, they are also largely untested and may include unintended consequences. Like you, I would much rather deal with pollution accidents resulting from efforts to decarbonize. But it’s also important that we understand the risk profile for anything we transport, and right now, there is much about carbon and hydrogen transport and storage that is not understood.

But I’m willing to make a solid bet the ETP didn’t purchase the Pegasus Pipeline, so it can lay idle. It’s only a matter of time before it is back in use. And considering that it is over 70 years old and the relaxed regulatory rules under which it is governed, it’s only a matter of time before Little Rock’s drinking water supply is again threatened.

On our way up Magazine Mountain in Arkansas, we met Joey on his souped-up e-bike on a gravel backroad. Joey was born and raised (and still lives) in the Arkansas Valley near Paris, Arkansas. Retired from a job with Bridgestone Tire, Joey enjoys hunting for wild turkeys on his bike. He said that his truck scares the turkeys, and he can sneak up on them on a bike. Turkey season in Arkansas is short; it lasts from April 17th - May 7th. An old back injury haunts Joey, but he pushes through, and at the end of the day, he goes home to a loving wife. Two grown children who don’t live very far away not far away give him much joy. A jovial, soft-spoken man with a gun dressed in camouflage riding an e-bike on a gravel road in the woods; can’t find that in Times Square…
Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Stay vigilant! Thanks for reading. If you haven’t done so, please subscribe to this blog to follow our next biking trip.

Blog writing by Michael Chase. Drawings by Jenny Hershey. Unless credited or otherwise noted, all material is the copyrighted property of the blog post authors.

This view looks north from Petite Jean Mountain in the Ouachita Mountains. Although this entire region is loosely referred to as “the Ozarks,” the southern border of the Ozark Plateau technically starts at the Boston Mountains, which are visible in the distance. Jenny and I were charmed by the natural beauty of Arkansas and challenged by its ruggedness. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

Michael Johnson-Chase 5/2/23 Michael Johnson-Chase 5/2/23

Water and a Tornado; Biking in Mississippi and Arkansas, Part 1

Jenny and I met Brian while he was gazing at the extraordinary amount of surface water flowing through Indian Bay near the White River east of DeWitt, Arkansas, in the Dale Bumpers National Recreation Area. This led to a conversation about how all the surface water we saw was unlikely to replenish groundwater supplies in the Mississippi Delta. Brian was about to say something when a valve spontaneously blew on my front tire, causing it to deflate instantly. Brian owns Pop Pop’s Bait and Tackle in Helena, Arkansas, near the Mississippi River on the Arkansas side of the Mississippi Delta (technically known as the Mississippi Embayment). He was fishing for Skipjack Herring, a great bait for catfish and quite lucrative for his shop. Brian started Pop Pop’s with his father about 12 years ago. He is proud of his daughter who will attend medical school next year. A hard-working man, Brian has lived in Arkansas his entire life.
Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her in Instagram @deeofo.

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“Our very survival depends on our ability to stay awake, to adjust to new ideas, to remain vigilant and to face the challenge of change.”

– Martin Luther King

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Our approximate route was from Birmingham, Alabama, to Conway, Arkansas. Once we reached Conway, Jenny and I entered the Arkansas Ozarks, which will be covered in Part 2 of this trip series. Image courtesy of Kamoot.

Writing by Michael Johnson Chase, Drawings by Jenny Hershey

For the second time this year, Jenny Hershey and I boarded an Amtrak train in New York City with our bicycles and got out in Birmingham, Alabama. Our ultimate destination was the Arkansas Ozarks this time, so we have been riding westward since we got to Birmingham. Fascinated by water issues and how they intersect with climate change, we were initially disappointed that our route wouldn’t take us through beleaguered Jackson, Mississippi, where water issues have become a water crisis.

We talked to a farmer near Friar’s Point, Mississippi, in the Mississippi Delta (not to be confused with the Mississippi River Delta, which is the extension of the Mississippi River into the Gulf of Mexico south of New Orleans). The farmer told us that low-till planting methods for water conservation and soil development are becoming increasingly common in this part of the Delta. When we asked about the water levels in the alluvial aquifer, the farmer replied that the aquifer was decreasing over time. Still, he also thought the issues were more critical on the Arkansas side of the Delta because water-intensive rice farming is more common. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

We decided that climate issues are ubiquitous enough that we will discover plenty of interesting stories wherever we go. We were right, of course. The prevalence of climate stories is much greater now than even a few short years ago, in 2016, when I started bicycle touring. Extreme weather-related disasters are now straining American communities so intensely that climate stories are everywhere. Climate-related events are occurring at a magnitude greater than the most conservative climate scientists predicted just a few years ago. However, the truly scary thing is that extreme weather-related natural disasters are only going to keep increasing in quantity, duration, and strength.

It’s no accident that City Hall and the Water Department are the most important municipal offices in Brilliant, Alabama. Access to clean and reliable water and safe sanitation are baseline conditions for health, prosperity, and well-being. Of America’s 145,000 municipal water systems, 97% of them are municipalities of 10,000 people or fewer. More than any other factor, climate change reveals and exacerbates racial and societal inequities in disproportionately small and rural communities that struggle for funding and technical services. Photo by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deepfo.

With that as a backdrop, let’s briefly return to the subject of Jackson, Mississippi (even though Jenny and I didn’t go there). The American media has coveted the drinking water crisis in Jackson as a story of poor management and neglect. But it is also a story about the convergence of climate change, aging infrastructure, water contamination, and rising costs. All those factors make providing clean water to every community in America an increasingly daunting problem. Already, more than two million Americans lack access to running water, indoor plumbing, or wastewater services.

While it is true that Jackson’s water system was poorly managed and neglected for decades (partially related to declining property values due to “white flight” into other towns and neighboring suburbs), the water system reached its final tipping point during a flooding crisis in 2022. When double-digit rainfall fell across central Mississippi in the last week of August, the Pearl River flooded and completely overwhelmed Jackson’s long-troubled water system. Destruction from the flood disabled the Curtis Water Treatment Plant for an extended period of time, forcing residents to go without drinking water for weeks. At the same time, there was not even enough water pressure to flush the toilets or shower.

Jessica is the town clerk in Brilliant, Alabama. She came out of her office to welcome us while we took a picture of the City Hall and Water Department sign. After some pleasantries, we asked Jessica about Brilliant’s water supply. She explained the town is building a new water tower supplied from local wells with help of the governor and a state based economic development organization (and most likely block grants from the 2021 Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act). This new water tower will supply water for nearly 500 residents and 36 businesses. Jessica, a lifelong Alabaman, proudly waved at a passing school bus carrying the local baseball team (including her two teenage sons) to a nearby high school. Her warmth and hospitality were topped off with a pen from the mayor. Brilliant town promotion in Brilliant!
Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Jackson is a canary in a coal mine. Even currently “adequate” infrastructure will become increasingly compromised as the climate grows hotter, dryer, and wetter. There are an ever-increasing number of hot spots worldwide where climate change is driving cycles of flooding, drought, water stress, interruptions in agriculture and subsequent famine. Perhaps the most dire situation of all is unfolding in the Horn of Africa, where drought is forcing millions of people into what Inside Climate calls a “raging food catastrophe.” And all around the world major rivers are drying up, including the Rhine and the Loire in Europe. Water flow through China’s massive Yangtze River is more than 50% below the average of the last five years, threatening the water supply of 400 million people. Closer to home, the Colorado River, which supplies drinking water for 40 million Americans and irrigates 7 million acres of our farmland, is suffering through the the worst dry spell in 1200 years. Though an unusually wet winter has provided temporary relief it’s nowhere near enough to fill the deficit. At the same time, many of the western states that saw record-breaking amounts of rain and snow over the winter are experiencing rapid spring snowmelt, which is becoming a massive flood threat. In California, thousands of acres are already underwater and that land area is expected to triple by summer.

Frankie works part-time at the water department in Detroit, Alabama (population of 150 people). Water comes from a nearby well and costs the residents $20 for 2000 gallons. A replica of a check for $350,000 for water infrastructure improvement from the governor hung on the wall behind her, demonstrating the state’s commitment to helping local communities. Frankie served as county clerk for 30 years in nearby Hodges and was blunt about extreme weather threatening the region. A devout Christian, Frankie belongs to a missionary group that rebuilds churches after floods, windstorms and tornadoes. Many of their projects are for African-American congregations. When we asked her what she thought was driving the increase in tornadoes in her area she replied, “I think it’s the end-times.”
Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram @deeofo.

Our route toward Little Rock from Birmingham took us west through the hill country of Jasper and Hamilton in western Alabama and then through beautiful farm country to Amory, Mississippi. You might have heard of Amory for several reasons. For one, a devastating tornado ripped through the town on March 25, 2023. There was widespread damage, and even Amory’s water treatment plant took a direct hit. Thankfully, Amory got its water running after a boil advisory that lasted only about a day. Even better, no one died in the town (although there were three deaths in Morgan County, where Amory is located).

Brenda, a woman of strong faith, prayed hard in her home as she huddled with her two brothers when a tornado struck her neighborhood in Amory, Mississippi. After the storm passed, she walked outside to find her front porch missing, although her home remained intact. A huge tree was lying on her neighbor’s house. Luckily, her neighbor survived by sheltering in the back of her house. Miraculously, no one in the town was killed, despite the tornado’s widespread devastation. When we came across Brenda, she was relaxing outside in a chair where her porch had been only days before, taking in the sunshine.
Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Other places were not so lucky. Over a dozen tornadoes tore through Mississippi and Alabama during the same storm, leaving at least 26 dead and a swath of destruction 100 miles wide and devastating the communities of Rolling Fork and Silver City, Mississippi. We considered biking to Rolling Fork just as we had considered stopping in Jackson but decided we didn’t want to be in the way or use resources needed by first responders. From what we understand, homes and businesses have been reduced to rubble. The recent tornadoes stretched from the Louisiana border of Mississippi through Alabama as part of a supercell, or rotating thunderstorm - a rare, extended path for such a storm.

We saw at least 3 trailer homes that had been ripped off their foundations and were upside down, making it clear that a trailer home is not a safe place to be during a tornado. Yet, in low income neighborhoods they are very common. The average cost of a typical single-family home in Mississippi is $144,074. In contrast, the average cost of a single-wide mobile home is $37,100 and double-wide mobile home is $73,600. Top photo by Jenny Hershey @deeofo and bottom photo by Michael Chase @mjohnsonchase.

Climate scientists have not been able to determine if there is a link between climate change and the frequency or strength of tornadoes. The primary tool scientists use to attribute extreme weather events to climate change is intensive computer modeling based on large amounts of aggregated data. This is difficult to achieve with tornadoes because of the localized conditions that determine their formation, combined with their relatively small size over a given region. Yet, scientists affirm that tornadoes are occurring in greater clusters, and the region of the United States in the Great Plains where most tornadoes occur (known as Tornado Alley) appears to be shifting eastwards toward more populated regions in the southeast. Therefore, tornadoes may be in the news more because more people are being impacted.

While biking through Amory, we noticed the woman above watching an excavator consolidate the debris below into a pile. When I asked her if she lived in the still-intact house behind her, she shook her head no and pointed to the pile of debris. She clearly didn’t want to talk, so we expressed our condolences and quickly moved on. Photos are by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

Tornadoes form inside large rotating thunderstorms when the ingredients are just right; a perfect mix of temperature and a specific moisture and wind profile. This suggests that an increase in water vapor and precipitation, indicative of climate change in the southeastern region, may be contributing to the shift eastwards. In any case, when air is unstable, cold air is pushed over warmer humid air, creating an updraft as the warm air rises. When the wind speed or direction changes over a short distance, the air inside the clouds starts to spin. If the air column begins spinning vertically and rotates near the ground, surface friction can accelerate the air even more. All these features must come together to cause a tornado to form. And despite their small size compared to an atmospheric river or a hurricane, they can be quite devastating. I certainly hope Jenny and I are lucky enough to avoid them on our travels, and my heart goes out to anyone forced to live through a direct hit.

A large tree rests on a home in the northwest section of Amory. Sadly, the tornado’s path tore through the least affluent part of town, underlining the reality that the most vulnerable among us are often the most affected during weather-related disasters. Photo by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

In Amory, and especially for Rolling Fork and Silver City, recovery from the tornado damage is uncertain. FEMA is out in force, but the devastation is quite extensive. Here’s how to help those impacted.

Another photo from Amory, Mississippi. Interestingly, meteorologists measure the strength of a tornado by the destruction it leaves in its wake because it is almost impossible to measure a tornado while it is active. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

The second reason you may know about Amory, Mississippi, is more fun. Two residents from Morgan County are competing in the 21st American Idol contest: Colin Stough and Zachariah Smith, both of whom have wowed the judges in their solo auditions. It’s striking that so many fine American gospel, blues and country musicians have come from the rural South. Still, Amory has the distinction of also having the 2015 American Idol winner, Trent Harmon. This is a good news story, and you can check out the contestants at the links above.

Bill’s Hamburgers sits temporarily closed after the Amory tornado, where 2023 American Idol contestant Zachariah Smith flipped over 400 hamburgers every Saturday. Photo by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Stay vigilant! Thanks for reading. Part 2 of this series will come soon. If you haven’t done so, please subscribe to this blog to follow our next biking trip.

Blog writing by Michael Johnson Chase. Drawings by Jenny Hershey. Unless credited or otherwise noted, all material is the copyrighted property of the blog post authors.

Although coal powers 18% of the electricity in Alabama and only 8% in Mississippi, coal still powers 50% of the electricity in Arkansas. We are a long ways from “electrifying everything,” but the vision and template to get there is a big part of the Inflation Reduction Act. If we care about young people, public health, and economic well-being, we must all work hard to utilize this bill's opportunities. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

Michael Johnson-Chase 2/3/23 Michael Johnson-Chase 2/3/23

Money Talks and Goliath Walks; Biking from Birmingham to New Orleans

Jenny and I met Pastor Samuel Williams on the outskirts of Tuscaloosa. Although he was fixing a frozen water pipe outside his church (which had prevented him from having services that day), he stopped working and gave us his full attention when we asked about a closed road ahead. A patient and charitable man, the Paster’s dedication to spiritual life was palpable, and he seemed to exude peace and happiness. When he learned we live in New York City, he asked us immediately if we had been affected similarly to Buffalo. We told him thankfully not, although NYC was experiencing its own extreme weather with unusually warm temperatures for January with lots of rain. But we had woken up to 28 degrees Fahrenheit in Tuscaloosa that morning, so it was easy to understand why his pipe had frozen. We all had a good laugh about how unpredictable the weather was growing. As we started to bike away, Jenny reflexively remarked, “Take care, Pastor Samuel.” The Pastor’s response took us by surprise “According to scripture, *taking care* means a person is experiencing anxiety and needs to give it away to God. So I think you mean *take it easy*”. So be it, Pastor Samuel. We’re taking it easy… Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram @deeofo.

“We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.”

–Martin Luther King, Jr.

Finally Jenny and I are back on the road, this time in the Deep South. After a hiatus in bike touring to manage some family affairs last summer, we were fortunate enough to take an early autumn bicycling tour through the northeast and a bit of Quebec. I was about to publish a post late in that trip when both Jenny and I contracted Covid. While recovering, my mood grew so dark that I abandoned the post (I have since learned that depression can be a symptom of Covid). I didn’t want to inflict my grim mood on others - and there’s only so much one can say about the growing potential for societal collapse if GHG emissions continue to rise (alas, it looks like we will increase GHG emissions yet again in 2023). It had already been a very rough year for extreme weather events, foreshadowing deeper challenges to come as our climate grows less stable.

A statue of the girls who perished in the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing in Birmingham, Alabama on Sunday, September 15, 1963. Described by Martin Luther King as "one of the most vicious and tragic crimes ever perpetrated against humanity," the explosion at the church killed four girls and injured between 14 and 22 other people. Photo by Jenny Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram @deeofo.

And as usual, the most vulnerable among us are the impacted the greatest. I was feeling especially bad for people in the global south who have been ravaged by climate related disasters. I was also discouraged by the game of chicken underway by a few members of Congress as meaningful climate legislation was repeatedly on, and then off, the table. Although I knew the world was about to break yet another GHG emissions record for 2022, I didn’t know until late in the summer that Chuck Schumer, Joe Manchin and other Senators were engaging in backroom log rolling toward a revised version of the Build Back Better plan. Had I known, I might not have been so discouraged.

A statue in Kelly Ingram Park in Birmingham commemorating student protests that occurred for weeks after the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing, bearing the inscription “ “I ain’t afraid of your jail.” Photo by Michael Chase. Follow his work on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

You may have felt similarly. Just to remind us of how extreme weather events are both speeding up and cascading, here is a cursory review of global events from the spring of 2022 through the early winter of 2023:

As a result of persistent droughts, communities across Africa, including Kenya, Nigeria, Ethiopia, and Somalia currently face the worst food crisis seen in 40 years. Earlier in the summer of 2022 more than 2,000 people died in Spain and Portugal during a brutal heatwave, while drought in Somalia displaced more than a million. In the United States, climate-related disasters exceeded $1 billion in damages the first 6 months of the year, including the ongoing drought in the west and southern plains and a tornado outbreak in Alabama, Florida, and Mississippi in March. In late July heavy flooding in eastern Kentucky killed at least 38 people. Also in July, parts of the United Kingdom saw temperatures soar for the first time ever to 104 degrees Fahrenheit, and much of Europe similarly suffered. In Pakistan, one third of the country experienced widespread destruction from three months of heavy rains after a prolonged period of heat in the spring. Flooding killed more than 1,400 people across the country during the summer and damaged or leveled more than a million homes, including many that were swept away by water. In total, over 30 million people have been affected. Additionally, Pakistani farmers lost up to a million head of cattle as well as 90% of the country’s fall harvest. Now starvation looms for millions of people as Pakistan faces a “second wave of death” that is likely to spiral toward implosion without major global assistance. September brought Hurricane Ian to the Caribbean and Florida, upending the lives of thousands, killing 109 people in the US alone, and resulting in a staggering $100 billion in damages. Then, a record-breaking snowstorm and polar vortex slammed much of the midwestern and northeastern US in January and produced a massive snowstorm that killed over 40 people in Buffalo in early 2023. That tragedy was followed by three weeks of extraordinary rain in California as a stubborn weather pattern sent wave after wave of tropically-infused atmospheric rivers, triggering widespread flooding, landslides and power outages across the state. At the same time, the mountains were buried under several feet of snow. 22 people were killed, and damages are still being assessed. Shortly thereafter, there were record breaking rains in New Zealand, freezing cold across the South and a polar vortex in New England. …and it’s only going to grow worse. Buckle your seat belts, folks. That's only the beginning.

We met Joe deep in the countryside outside of Fosters, Alabama. He was content grazing his six cows on a neighbor’s land across the road. He is hoping for a little growth in his herd when a bull joins his girls next month. He also enjoys a small herd of goats that roam freely on his property just because, “he likes them.” Joe lives a simple life by making and selling his own BBQ sauce. He lives a cherished “second life” after a near-death automobile accident (during the Covid pandemic) that laid him up for over a year. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram @deeofo.

As I recovered from Covid my depression began to lift, yet I continued to wrestle with my grim perspective of the future. It helped to study two bills passed in the last Congress - the Inflation Reduction Act and the bipartisan Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act. Almost as an act of will, I have chosen to believe in their potential. While I am certain that significant change is coming straight at us, things can - and may - change as much for the better as they can for the worse. Perhaps society will re-organize in an increasingly aggressive climate in a manner to avoid civilizational collapse, maybe making civilization even more - well, civilized. In any event, I have decided that a curated vision of the worst possible outcome is not good for one’s mental well-being - even if one is proved right. I’d so much rather be proved wrong.

“God spoke to me, and told me to build it”! said Lester. We met him while biking on Route 11 in Jasper County, Mississippi. Busy clearing brush, he stopped to proudly showed us his cairns at the base of his driveway. Lester still cares for his disabled daughter after his wife died from diabetes 15 years ago. His older daughter works in the big city of Hattiesburg, MS. A simple man who has worked hard all his life caring for others, Lester finds solace and support in his local church. He was quite enthusiastic about the important and accomplished people that attended a recent service at his church commemorating Martin Luther King. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram @deeofo.

Jenny and I believe that tracking the implementation of the Inflation Reduction and the Infrastructure Acts over the coming years will be the focus of future our biking tours as climate investments are scaled up. If all goes well, over the next decade the world will witness widespread growth in renewable energy, grid modernization, electrification of our transportation and building systems (in spite of the ridiculous culture war in the US over stoves), the growth of hydrogen-based fuel for long haul transport and some forms of heating, and - if safety and siting concerns are adequately addressed - deployment of carbon capture, storage and industrial uses for carbon. Below is a graph that shows how both bills will complement each other.

This graph can be sourced here. Along with tax reforms (which are under threat of repeal by the new Congress) and investments in healthcare, the Inflation Reduction Act provides $369 billion to address climate through tax credits for clean energy and electric vehicles, by boosting energy efficiency, establishing a national climate bank, supporting climate-smart agriculture, bolstering production of sustainable aviation fuel, reducing air pollution at ports, and more. The law represents the boldest action Congress has taken on climate yet—if enacted successfully and quickly enough, it will put the United States on a path to reduce greenhouse gas emissions by 40 percent below 2005 levels by 2030, according to several independent analyses. That is, of course, if implementation is both rapid and effective. Additionally, the Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act provides complementary investments in energy modernization, transportation, workforce development, and building decarbonization.

We are pleased that the bipartisan infrastructure bill provides $66 billion to rebuild our decaying US rail system, because Jenny and I are supporters of combining train travel and bike touring. We started our current trip in the Deep South by taking a train (with our bicycles onboard) from Penn Station, New York, to Birmingham, Alabama - leaving on a rainy and uncharacteristically warm New York City in mid-January, and arriving in an uncharacteristically cold Birmingham the next day. We set out on our bikes for Meridian, MS, intending to catch a train to New Orleans and then another to San Antonio (we had purchased multi-ride ticket passes). But upon our arrival in Meridian we discovered that track work was limiting the number of trips on the Crescent line so there was no train for four more days. We decided to bike to New Orleans instead. We are glad we did. Serendipity has its place, especially when traveling on bicycles.

Bunky is the Amtrak Station Manager in Meridian, Mississippi. When we learned our intended train to New Orleans was delayed for four days, he took us out on the station platform and shared quite a bit about the history of Meridian. A proud yet humble man, Bunky also shared his previous life as the Fire Chief of Meridian, and held us rapt as he recounted the time a plane crashed on the interstate that passes through town. But his biggest challenge was getting to New York a week after 9/11 to help restore order and rescue firefighters and civilians at the World Trade Center. That fact alone inspired our trust, so when Bunky encouraged us to go to the Mississippi Arts Museum, we said of course we would. Modern and interactive, the museum is extremely well curated and it inspired us to stay longer in Mississippi, so we decided to forgo our plans to get to Texas, and instead bike to New Orleans through Mississippi. The South had us hooked. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her work in Instagram @deeofo.

We’ve been on our bikes ever since, with our eyes open for early indications of progress in climate infrastructure development that might link to either legislation. What we found surprised us. I was researching early climate infrastructure projects while spending a rainy day in a motel in Bogalusa, Louisiana, when I encountered an interesting story about Parish Councils near Lake Maurepas to the west of New Orleans.

Lake Maurepas is in the upper left of this satellite image of southeastern Louisiana. Lake Pontchartrain lies to its east, with New Orleans about 25 miles away along Pontchartrain's southern shore. (Satellite image via Wikimedia Commons.)

In October 2021, Louisiana Governor John Bel Edwards announced that Air Products, a multinational chemical company based in Pennsylvania, will invest $4.5 billion to develop a “clean” energy complex in Ascension Parish, Louisiana, by 2026. This project involves the construction of a new plant in the unincorporated community of Burnside (across the Mississippi River from Donaldsonville, a petrochemical capital of Louisiana) to convert natural gas to “blue” hydrogen by capturing the resulting carbon dioxide. The plant will use its own preexisting pipeline infrastructure to ship hydrogen to market, and build a new pipeline through the largely untouched Lake Maurepas marsh to transport the resulting CO2 about 30 miles to injection wellheads for permanent storage under the lake.

In this instance, the CO2 created as a byproduct of cracking methane (which makes up about 70-90% of natural gas) to form hydrogen will be compressed into a denser liquid-like form, and injected into geological formations called saline aquifers (a layer of porous rocks saturated with salty water) 7000 feet under Lake Maurepas. Apparently, saline aquifers are ubiquitous across much of southern and coastal Louisiana, so given the intensity of the petrochemical industry here, it seems likely there will be many more proposals made by fossil fuel companies to store CO2 in the Gulf coastal region.

Ms. Rosalyn radiated joy. A talented baker and co-owner of LaTresa’s Treats, she tempted us with her homemade pecan squares at the small weekly farmer’s market on the town square in delightful historic Hattiesburg, Mississippi. “They taste like heaven” she assured us, “if you like pecan pie, you’ll love these squares”… Sampling one that evening for dessert, we discovered Ms. Rosalyn was right. Imagine something that tastes better than a piece of pecan pie! And she’ll ship them! You can order them here. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram @deeofo.

Interestingly, hydrogen is described by colors as shorthand for how it is created. Although hydrogen is the world’s most plentiful chemical, it doesn't exist on its own in nature; instead it bonds to other chemicals and is most abundant as H2O. It is also present in the atmosphere and in methane. Hence, hydrogen made from burning natural gas is referred to as “blue” when the carbon is captured, “grey” when carbon escapes into the atmosphere, and “green” when it is cracked or separated from water through electrolysis using electricity made from renewable sources. Only green hydrogen can be made without creating CO2.

When blue hydrogen is manufactured and the resulting CO2 emissions are captured and stored underground, the process is often described by the manufacturer as carbon-neutral. And although Air Product’s proposal is touted as such, closer examination suggests otherwise. Some studies suggest that the carbon footprint of blue hydrogen is 20% larger than gas and coal for the energy required to crack the hydrogen. That doesn’t count the CO2 the process creates, which is what Air Products intends to capture and store. Additionally, natural gas production inevitably results in methane emissions from so-called fugitive leaks, which are leaks of methane from the drilling, extraction and transportation process.

Although fossil fuel companies claim they have years of experience storing carbon, they usually fail to mention their experience is with enhanced oil recovery (EOR), which involves injecting carbon dioxide into oil wells to coax out hard-to-get oil. That is not the same thing as permanent CO2 storage, which is a new technology. In fact, it is so new that there are only two long-term carbon storage wells currently in use in the US.

Picture taken at Fontainebleau State Park, Louisiana, on the northern shore of Lake Pontchartrain. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow his work on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

Some people still might ask, what's the big deal? After all, we currently release about 11 million tons of CO2 into our atmosphere daily. As the longest-lasting GHG in our atmosphere, CO2 is currently at about 450 parts per every million (ppm) molecules of atmospheric gases (and rising) and that concentration doesn't impact human health yet. But to transport and/or store carbon, CO2 must be concentrated into a liquid of vastly higher concentration. Although Air Products claims their process of transfer and storage will be perfectly safe, the technology and infrastructure pose a safety risk to the communities they encounter. The bottom line is that sequestering CO2 at a commercial scale is, as yet, unproven to work in the real world.

It’s also important to be skeptical about the carbon capture rates that companies have promoted. Mark Jacobson, a professor of civil and environmental engineering at Stanford University helped publish a recent study on blue hydrogen. When interviewed by The Lens - an excellent New Orleans local news organization - Jacobson noted that methane leakage is essentially unavoidable in the blue hydrogen process. Assuming a 3.5% methane leakage rate would be conservative for a project like Air Products’. He goes on to say, “The only blue hydrogen facility that produces hydrogen from natural gas at a commercial scale for which there is relevant data is Shell’s Alberta plant, which has demonstrated a mean capture rate of 78%.” A separate analysis conducted by the watchdog group Global Witness says the figure is closer to 48%. Carbon capture prolongs the life span of industrial facilities that contribute significantly to climate change, yet according to Jacobson, carbon capture rates are inadequate, and simply not worth the investment. Yet, the fossil fuel industry is aggressively selling carbon sequestration, utilization and storage (CCUS) to the public as a safe and significant way to achieve full decarbonization by 2050.

Traveling almost 1000 miles on bicycles, this is the shape of our trip. “A” is Birmingham, where we started, and “B” is Golden Meadow, deep in the coastal marsh of Louisiana below New Orleans, which is as far south as we were able to go because of damage from Hurricane Ida. The blue dot is where we were when we made this map. Map created on Kamoot.

I've been aware for some time that environmental justice groups are very wary of plans by fossil fuel companies to decarbonize their product as a way to keep selling it. There are many significant players in this arena, and many of them are pressuring the EPA to decline permits for a proliferation of CCS applications. One example is from California's Central Valley Air Quality Coalition. Another is in New Orleans, at the Deep South Center for Environmental Justice. The DSCEJ has been pushing local and federal leaders to consider the potential consequences of CCUS on Black communities around the Gulf Coast who have dealt with the consequences of the oil and gas industry’s careless pollution on their health and livelihood for decades. It was their advocacy that prompted The New Orleans City Council to unanimously pass Resolution NO. R-22-219. This resolution urges the prohibition of underground storage of carbon dioxide and facilities for this purpose. Passed in May of 2022, Dr. Beverly Wright, Executive Director of the Deep South Center for Environmental Justice, commented: “I am proud of New Orleans for being a trailblazer in policies that protect local communities from CCS technologies. As I said when Energy Secretary Jennifer Granholm visited recently, supporting CCS will encourage the growth of fossil fuel industries and continue the injustice of putting profits over communities of color. Instead, we need to develop and implement an energy plan for Louisiana that cleans our air and powers our homes and vehicles while prioritizing equitable investments in communities and invests in people to get the necessary training for clean energy jobs of the future. We encourage other local municipalities around the country to follow New Orleans’ lead to prohibit CCS technology”.

We met Gary, a retired school bus driver, on Head of Island near a canal on the Amite River that flows into Lake Maurepas. Born and raised in the Maurepas swamp area, Gary recounted some vivid tales from his father about encountering strange sinkholes while fishing in the waterways. Now, Gary is concerned about the seismic testing on the lake in preparation for Air Product’s carbon storage project. He is concerned for his 12 grandkids and potential hazards to the water supply and surrounding wildlife. Gary told us a story he heard from a few friends who are tracking the seismic testing contracted by Air Products. When his friends approached a boat in the lake they believed was involved in testing they were greeted by a security guard carrying a rifle who made it clear they should leave. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram @deeofo.

In October of 2022, the Livingston Parish Council voted unanimously to place a year-long moratorium on the construction of carbon dioxide injection wells below Lake Maurepas. Although Livingston Parish was the only council that passed an attempt at a legal moratorium, their concerns are supported by many locals living in Tangipahoa Parish to the east and Ascension Parish to the southwest.

Interestingly, two of those Parishes would not be considered typical “Environmental Justice” (EJ) communities. They contrast with Donaldsonville, which is 85% people of color (and fits the classic definition of a frontline community) and Burnside, which is about 65% people of color (and the location of Air Products’ blue hydrogen facility). Both of those towns are in Ascension Parish. By contrast Livingston Parish is 95% white, while Tangipahoa Parish is about 65% white. Since neither of those parishes have been frontline communities before, an historical tolerance toward the oil and gas industries might be confusing the issues. As a case in point, I noticed the following comment in The Lens by a Council Member from one of the involved Parishes, “I’m not against the oil and gas industry, and I want to reduce carbon dioxide in the atmosphere as much as anybody else. But this is not correcting the problem. This is creating one more problem.”

Section 45Q of the Unites States Internal Revenue Code is intended to incentivize deployment of carbon capture, utilization and storage (CCUS). The credit amount also significantly increases for direct air capture (DAC) projects to $180 a ton of CO2 permanently stored and $130 a ton for used CO2. The information above can be referenced here.

I sympathize completely with the Parish residents for their concern about their local environment, and believe all three parishes are being unfairly steamrolled by a large company, and state and federal level politicians. I very much hope the residents will prevail. I also think it's time to end the “not in my backyard mentality” (NIMBYism) that has been an unconscious feature of white middle-class communities for so long. We all need to share the burdens wrought by our way of life, or we need to change our way of life. Fair is fair. In other words, If you don't want something in your backyard, then it’s not ok to put it in someone else’s. And conversely, if you stand by when it happens to your neighbors then don’t be surprised when it happens to you. Instead, focus on stopping the root causes of the problem.

Traveling on a bicycle increases the odds of serendipity. Through a chance encounter in a health food store in Pontchatoula, Louisiana, Jenny and I were able to speak by phone with two members of the Tangipahoa Council, Brigette Hyde and Kim Coates, both of whom represent many local parish constituents who are quite upset by Air Products’ proposal. We learned the permitting process for the carbon storage injection wells - which normally takes years - was pushed through in only four months with no public transparency or local input. Needless to say, locals are fearful about how carbon storage will affect Lake Maurepas’ plethora of wildlife, its recreational boating industry and the health of the local population.

Currently, there is nothing the Parish Councils can do to slow down this project. The lake body itself is owned by the state, which has preemption rights over the Parishes, and a federal judge recently ruled that Livingston Parish cannot enforce its moratorium. Air Products argued it would lose more than $75,000 spent on seismic tests and well preparations to satisfy EPA regulations should the moratorium stay in place because the state permits they’ve been granted will expire. So Air Products, predictably, prevailed in court, also arguing the entire process is perfectly safe and will help them meet federal GHG emissions goals. “We are pleased with the ruling, and we remain committed to continuing to share information with all local parish councils, elected and regulatory officials and local residents about Air Products’ clean energy project and its environmental and economic benefits, and employment opportunities,” said Art George, Air Products’ communications director.

Federal and state officials and industry experts alike have welcomed carbon capture and storage projects as a means to meet net-zero carbon emissions goals. In fact, when Congress passed the Inflation Reduction Act in August, it increased the value of the Q45 carbon capture tax credit to $85 a ton. Because of that adjustment, Air Products stands to receive as much as $425 million in annual tax credits for storing carbon dioxide under Lake Maurepas.

Small wonder they are moving full speed ahead.

Money talks. Goliath walks.

Stay vigilant! Thanks for reading. More to come. If you haven’t done so already, please subscribe to this blog, so you can follow our next biking trip.

All material, unless credited or otherwise noted, are copyrighted property of the blog post authors.

Jenny asked me to post this drawing here as a postscript out of gratitude.
Keith is a retired automation manager from the Union Carbide plant. Route 20 became too treacherous for biking in Vacherie, Louisiana and we were forced to ride on dirt paths through sugar cane fields until we could get no farther. In the distance we saw Keith working on his small John Deere tractor, clearing debris off the road by his house that abuts the sugar cane field. We biked over to told Keith and explained our predicament. He confirmed that there was only one way to the next town, which was down the dangerous Route 20. Thankfully, Keith then offered to use his truck to drive our bikes and gear into Thibodeaux 14 miles down the road. Both he and wife Debbie were very kind and hospitable. Keith dropped us off at a motel we had a reservation for, and they went off to their favorite fish spot for “date night.”
Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram @deeofo.

Michael Johnson-Chase 5/25/22 Michael Johnson-Chase 5/25/22

Hope and Despair; Biking the Western Upper Peninsula

Carly, her boyfriend Paxton and his sister Ali all moved from Minneapolis to Ontonagon, Michigan, in the Upper Peninsula in August of 2021, and bought a small motel. Renaming it after their black lab Griswold, Griswold’s Lodge is their hope and promise for the future. They believe in this area’s potential for growth. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

When you’re at the end of your rope, tie a knot and hold on. - Theodore Roosevelt

It’s been a rough news cycle. The names of two American towns say it all: Buffalo, New York and Uvalde, Texas.

———————

Thank you for taking the time to read the latest blog post from carbonstories.org. I apologize for the long hiatus between posts. In March, a bike trip to the Ozarks (which would have resulted in a posting) was upended by a family emergency that required consistent attention for several months. Yet, happily over the same period, my daughter Saren had a second child. ….Welcome to this very troubled and extraordinarily beautiful world, Kaia Spire!

A proud grandfather holding Kaia Spire, born April 5, 2022.

After meeting my new grandchild over a week ago, my intrepid cycling partner Jenny Hershey and I left my daughter’s place in Wausau, Wisconsin, and headed north on our bicycles to explore the western Upper Peninsula of Michigan and the Lake Superior shore of Wisconsin. So far we’ve biked about 500 miles from Wausau, Wisconsin into the Lake Superior shore in the state of Michigan, up the Keweenaw Peninsula to Copper Harbor, and back to Ontonagon, Michigan just east of the Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Forest. Next we will head to Ironwood, Michigan and then to Ashland, Wisconsin and the Apostle Island area. If we are lucky, we’ll make it to Duluth, Minnesota, before heading back to Wausau and Milwaukee to visit family before our return to New York City. The copper ridges, mountains, wet valleys and innumerable lakes of this country - mixed with cool temperatures and copious rain that keep the insects in check - are making for a bracing and energetic trip (with occasional unplanned layovers as we wait for storms to let up).

Wausau is to the south on this map. The circle is Ontonagon, Michigan. Near the end of the long peninsula to the northeast lies Copper Harbor, where we were several days prior. From Copper Harbor or Houghton, Michigan, one can take a ferry to Isle National Royale, a US National Park wilderness area. We wanted to go, but were unable to make the ferry schedule work out…. Another time! Map by Guru Maps Pro.

I’m a lucky man, and I try not to take my good fortune for granted. I have loving and wonderful friends and family. I am healthy enough to do most everything I aspire to. I get enough to eat, and I usually sleep where it is dry and warm. When I experience physical discomfort, I know it won’t last and I will be comfortable again soon. I have lived a life of privilege; among other forms of good fortune, my gender, race and education have always worked in my favor. I suppose you can call me “woke.” Well, so be it, especially when the alternative is to be not-woke, which really means “asleep.” A lot of sleeping folk are in Houston right now, railing against the possibility of meaningful gun legislation. They are “asleep at the wheel,” as far as I’m concerned… on gun control, on climate, on constitutional protection from religious persecution on a woman’s right to choose. They are loud, but common sense will always be louder, even if it arrives too late to mitigate some of our pain.

I had polio as a child (and am so grateful for the polio vaccine). I’ve had several major illnesses and surgeries as an adult, and I am managing post-polio syndrome as I enter my “golden” years. I’ve lost people I loved a great deal. I’ve had other setbacks. But on the whole, life has been very good to me. I worked hard at several careers and was rewarded for it; now in retirement, I bike the world and live a life of adventure. Given how challenging life has been over millennia for most humans, I regard my good fortune as remarkable.

Heading north on the Bear Skin State Trail south of Minocqua, Wisconsin. Photo by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Yet, the future of humankind weighs heavily on my imagination. I worry for my grandchildren. I worry for the human species. I grieve for the many people experiencing life-altering and deadly extreme weather events now, for those trapped in extreme poverty, random inexplicable violence in so-called “safe communities,” and those unfortunate enough to be living under wartime conditions. I grieve the rapidly accelerating loss of so many animal, plant and insect species all over the globe. At times, witnessing the extinction of the earth’s magnificent biodiversity makes me overwhelmingly sad.

The emergency report published in February by the International Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) - the largest peer reviewed body of climate scientists in the world - was grim, concluding with this paragraph: “The cumulative scientific evidence is unequivocal: Climate change is a threat to human well-being and planetary health. Any further delay in concerted anticipatory global action on adaptation and mitigation will miss a brief and rapidly closing window of opportunity to secure a livable and sustainable future for all.”

Jenny Hershey takes a break on Five Mile Point Road in the Porcupine Mountains Wilderness. Lake Superior is behind her… Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

This report coincided with the sidelining of the most aggressive climate legislation ever attempted by the US Congress, and then was quickly eclipsed by an immediate humanitarian catastrophe - the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Geopolitical concerns are now displacing climate change among world leaders as the most critical issue on the global stage. Some decades ago we might have had enough time to solve one global crisis and then move on to another - but now we are facing twin crises of equal magnitude that must be solved simultaneously. Which world governments will remain democratic and which ones will embrace or collapse into authoritarianism? And can governments work collectively to reduce emissions rapidly at the same time they are struggling to preserve their geopolitical identities?

We don’t yet know how such dilemmas will resolve themselves. But I, for one, wouldn’t place my bet on things remaining the same. I think our reasonably immediate futures are going to look vastly different from our reasonably immediate pasts. Change is speeding up. In fact, I think those who try to keep things the same are fighting the wrong battle. My biggest objection to “conservatism” the world over is that “stopping or slowing down change” at a time when change is increasing exponentially in speed and scope - whether we like it or not - is essentially useless. There is little point in being nostalgic for a past that no longer exists (and didn’t work for large numbers of people anyway). The best we can do is “direct change” so that we survive, first and foremost, and hopefully do so in a way that is somewhat to our collective liking. We might be able to survive with some dignity in a harsher and less predictable climate while we create an equitable and sustainable way of life and help others less fortunate than ourselves. But we can no longer sustain massive climate destroying autocracies and pseudo-democracies that coddle carbon intensive behaviors by wealthy individuals, encourage racial inequality, accept massive poverty and wantonly destroy our earth for personal gain. Those days are over. Either we adapt or we perish.

And what might adapting look like? In my last blog post, as Jenny and I rode through the southwestern desert just before the massive spring fires of 2022 set in, I wrote about the formal movement of Deep Adaptation. Deep Adaptation argues for a deeper accounting of adaptive processes. This perspective assumes that extreme weather events and other related climate stressors will increasingly disrupt power, food, water, shelter, and social and governmental systems, and that society and local regional governments need to prepare for such occurrences.

Dick is a wood grader who has lived his entire life in Marenisco, Michigan (population 250). He cheerfully explained the difference between White Pines and Spruces and detailed how Jack Pines form their weird cones. When we asked if he knew of any COVID cases in his town, he thought a minute, and then replied, “Yea, a couple people croaked from it.” Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

However, we’ve come across another form of thoughtful climate adaptation while biking in the upper Midwest. Among the leaders in developing scientific and analytical tools for anticipating human migration in the United States is the American Society of Adaptation Professionals, a ten-year-old group of resilience scholars and practitioners based in Ypsilanti. ASAP, as it’s known, is collaborating with Ann Arbor, the National League of Cities, Florida State University, and the state of New York to develop the first scientific models for anticipating economic and population shifts under changing climate conditions. Their work focuses on migration in the Great Lakes region.

Near the summit at Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow his work on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

It isn’t hard to find opinions on the internet about which American cities might be the best (and the worst) places to live as climate change advances. For example, the insurance broker website Policygenius published a study in 2020 listing the top 10 best and worst places to live over the coming decades. Interestingly enough, the top two best cities on this list are San Francisco and Seattle (while the worst are Houston and Miami). However, air quality issues from fires close to both San Francisco and Seattle over the past few years plus the unprecedented heat dome over Seattle in the summer of 2021 challenge the wisdom of these choices. Additionally this research was based on the largest 50 metropolitan areas in the US, which suggest that Policygenious is thinking more about where large numbers of people may suffer or do slightly better, meaning those who are most likely to need insurance products.

ASAP - as a group of adaptation professionals - isn’t focused on how communities will come apart (and which ones to avoid), but rather on where human societies may do better through the lens of social justice and equity as climate change accelerates. Quality of life issues such as availability of jobs and affordable housing are emphasized in the communities studied, as are livability concerns such as good transit, walk-ability and bike-ability. Although this research is still in early stages, ASAP has teamed up with the New York State Energy Research Development Authority (NYSERDA) to anticipate trends of climate migration throughout the Great Lakes region. This approach is notably different from the more common images of climate migration in developing and underdeveloped parts of the world, which typically reference patterns such as those driven by large numbers of Bangladeshi farmers fleeing into nearby countries as their delta disappears, or South Pacific Islanders abandoning islands submerged by sea level rise, or farmers in sub-Saharan Africa moving to cities to escape desertification of their farmland.

In contrast, the migration patterns under study through ASAP imagine the possibility of a reversal of the last half decade of American population expansion into the south and southwest, and consider how Great Lakes regions might be affected by refugees from other states fleeing fires and water shortages and in search of cooler temperatures. This analysis now serves as a prescient preview to questions gaining relevance for human migration: will fierce meteorological turbulence cause Americans to move — away from danger and toward safety? Will people stay or go?

I wager they’ll go. Most Americans have always sought out better places to live. With the exception of Native Americans, it’s in our DNA as a nation of immigrants.

The flowage from “Lake of the Clouds” heads towards Lake Superior at Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow his work on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

And it turn outs the northern midwest, which has been losing population for decades, is a likely destination. As is true everywhere, there are significant contemporary challenges that climate change presents for land and water, communities and governance in the Great Lakes region. Still, the northern midwestern region is now viewed by scientists and social theorists as one of the more ecologically resilient regions in the country, so it makes perfect sense to think about how business, government, and culture can evolve to accommodate the climate-altered seasons. That’s why the American Society of Adaptation Professionals is …convening researchers who anticipate that warming winters, ample reserves of fresh water, and forests not prone to wildfire are ecological benefits that will attract millions of new residents to the Great Lakes and reverse decades of slow population growth.

Here’s an example of a climate professional turned climate migrant (Jamie Beck Alexander, the Director of Drawdown Labs at Project Drawdown,) who choose to leave California with her family for a safer, more sustainable life in Duluth, Minnesota. Our Ontonagon hosts Carly, Paxton and Ali may be leading a similarly smart migration from a larger to a smaller town. Perhaps population density will also factor into quality of life issues as we reshape our communities for climate adaptation, just as COVID reversed a decades-long trend of people moving to cities from rural communities. As residents of New York City, this definitely gives us something to chew on… how about you?

Gaylynn, our server at Syl’s in Ontonagon (population 1400) has spent her entire life in this small town, except for a period of service in the Navy. She is happily upbeat about life in the Upper Peninsula, and a proud citizen of Michigan. An energetic and attentive waitress, it was a pleasure to watch her interact with townspeople she knows very well. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Stay vigilant! Thanks for reading. More to come. If you haven’t done so already, please subscribe to this blog, so you can follow our next biking trip later in the summer of 2022.

All material, unless credited or otherwise noted, are copyrighted property of the blog post authors.

Michael Johnson-Chase 1/18/22 Michael Johnson-Chase 1/18/22

Deep Adaptation; Biking from Los Angeles to Tucson

Reading to my grandson Emery as he nods off. Like most grandparents, I wonder what the world will be like when my grandkids are older. It will be 2089 when Emery is the age I am now. The world seems so precarious now; what will it be like then? Will life be better or worse? Will we even be here? Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Any way you slice it, keeping warming below 2°C requires an immediate, massive, and global mitigation effort. With each passing day, it’s less likely that we’ll succeed. Indeed, over 90% of Earth scientists believe we’ll surpass this threshold.

Here’s an idea that’s simple and beautiful but goes against both the myths of the mainstream culture and our deepest mental habits. It’s this: don’t be afraid, and spread love every chance you get.

Peter Kalmus, climate scientist at NASA, from his book Being the Change

Cows wander through a date tree orchard in the Imperial Valley near Brawley, California. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

When I set out on my first solo-biking adventure in 2015, I had no idea I would remain enthusiastically committed to long distance biking seven years later. Nor did I imagine I would have the good fortune to share many trips with an enthusiastic and equally curious biking partner who is also an excellent illustrator. Jenny and I both hope our occasional blog posts enrich your life (as they do ours) in some small way. Traveling at the speed of a bicycle is great exercise, and it’s an in-your-face way to experience how a place actually feels. It also provides a very intimate experience of the natural world, which is especially important in an age where most of us (at least in the Global North) are mostly protected - even isolated - from our rapidly changing climate and increasingly degrading environment.

After trips to Wisconsin to see my kids and grandkids over the Christmas holidays, we drove Jenny’s car to El Paso (stopping for a few days to bike in Big Bend National Park), and then took Amtrak to Los Angeles with our bikes to visit my brothers Chris and Steve for a few days. Our plan was to ride our bikes from Anaheim back to El Paso. We only made it to Tucson.

We rode by a Cattle Manure Power Plant south of Brawley in California’s famed Imperial Valley. The plant is now abandoned, after opening twice over the last 30 years to great fanfare under two different private companies - one of whom claimed they would help local cattle ranchers dispose of manure by turning it into electricity under a contract with Southern Californian Edison, and another who was going to also process King Grass for the biofuel market. Unfortunately, the first project was plagued by a massive rainstorm that made manure retrieval and processing impossible, and the second was closed after an earthquake in 2010 damaged the processing plant. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

After some very long rides (over 85 miles), mixed with several brutal days riding into intense and unremitting easterly winds while climbing several thousands of feet in elevation, Jenny and I decided that it would be best for us to rest up in Tucson, and then take the train back to El Paso from Tucson for a more leisurely return to our car, where we would car/bike our way back home to New York City (I had been hoping to ride Highway 9 along the New Mexico border through historic Columbus, NM into El Paso, but that will wait for another trip).

Lizzie is a takeout restaurant hostess in Canyon City, California, with a complex story about the many people for whom she is responsible. She patiently listened to Jenny express frustration over the lack of regard drivers demonstrated toward us on Gilman Springs Road on the way to the Palm Springs desert. We were unavoidably placed in a very dangerous situation (having been directed there by a bicycle mapping program I don’t think we’ll continue to use). We found ourselves several miles up a canyon when the shoulder disappeared on a narrow two-lane road, with high winds and cars passing feet away at 75 miles an hour showing no intention or interest in our situation or safety. We were forced to walk our bikes over a rumble strip trying to avoid traffic on our left and thorny bushes on the right. Nobody stopped or slowed down. The indifference of drivers to our situation was stupefying. After listening to Jenny’s story, Lizzie said “That’s so sad. What’s going on in people’s heads? We’ve lost our humanity with traffic. It’s as if it’s no longer human beings driving those cars”. Then, she offered to bag up extra chips and guacamole (which turned out to be excellent) for our ride into Palm Springs the next day. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Deciding to change our plans wasn’t easy. Jenny and I have different strengths and limitations. We both felt challenged and each reacted differently. But like all collective human endeavors, we had to accept our limits as we confronted our own personal challenges and devise a bail-out strategy that worked for both of us. In the meantime, we rode through many diverse industrial and agricultural environments and basked in 650 miles of extraordinary natural landscapes during our ride from Anaheim to Tucson.

*“!Hay zanahorias. Muchas zanahorias!”* Workers near the road express their pleasure over the harvest to Jenny. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

It’s easy to love the sheer rawness and massive scale of the American southwest, especially as seen from a bike. Where there is water for irrigation (delivered through a system of canals from the Colorado and Gila Rivers) green fields of lettuces, cabbages, broccoli, sugar beets, carrots, alfalfa, wheat, king grass and countless other plants stretch into the horizon on endlessly flat terrain. In every direction lie mountains - craggy and massive, brown, apricot, and hazelnut in full sunlight, gray, impersonal and barren under cloudy skies. Where there is no water, barrel-cactus covered flatlands fall into the horizon, ubiquitous washes create carved out ridge-lines that delight the eye and ominously warn of floods to come, and Joshua trees and Saguaro cacti stand like regal gifts from Diego Rivera. The sun can be unrelenting (thank God it is January), and the wind can be deafening. The rare absence of wind results in a silence more peaceful than a Buddhist retreat. These physical polarities get under one’s skin like dirt under one’s fingernails. And it’s impossible to get enough of the warm afternoons, especially when the sun slants lower in the sky and casts a golden glow on all it shines upon, even trash.

Field workers in the Imperial Valley. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

Manuel, a hard working date farmer from Calexico, CA, tends to a date palm orchard about 20 miles from his home. After telling us what the trees behind him were, he explained to us that dates are harvested once a year in August. Manuel also does agricultural work in the adjoining border town of Mexicali, Mexico, and has traveled back and forth between California and Mexico for years. He worries about the heat and extended drought in his region, and how it will impact crops in both countries. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram @deeofo.

During the recent months American environmentalists have been hyper-focused on the passage of the climate provisions in the “Build Back Better” act. Hoping to finally address climate change at a policy level that approaches the scale scientists tell us is required, climate activists were seriously disappointed by recent setbacks to the bill’s passage. Other occurrences haven’t added comfort: in mid-January the news broke that the hottest eight years ever recorded have occurred in the last eight years, and US emissions jumped in 2021 over 2020 levels, making our national goal of a 50% reduction in 2005 CO2 levels by 2030 further out of reach. Yet, these troublesome headlines are only part of discouraging news. Bloomberg just published an article about the potential of Kuwait becoming too hot for people or wildlife in a few decades, and NPR just published an article and video about how a climate change-induced drought in Kenya and nearby Uganda is parching landscapes, killing livestock and creating a humanitarian crisis. And only a few days ago, Weekend Edition published a story and video footage about a crippling drought now underway in Iraq. It’s sad to say there is little that is surprising in such reports, and it is easy to cite so much other alarming news (such as unprecedented high temperatures and decline of sea ice in the Arctic, and the rapid melting of the Thwaite Glacier in Antartica).

We met David on a dirt road near Eloy, Arizona. A road safety and maintenance manager for 35 years, David helped us avoid some dangerous paved roads without shoulders by directing us down some safer dirt roads. He pointed to one area and said teasingly, “Oh don’t go down there—the locals will shoot at you just to mess with you.” He suggested a course for us that he would confidently cycle with his wife. We deeply appreciated his kindness as we made our way to safer terrain.

It isn’t my intention to be depressing, but rather to lay a foundation for what I’ve been thinking about on this trip. Now that meaningful action on climate change appears stalled once again in America, it might be time to think more deeply about the potential consequences of climate chaos. In January of 2020, I wrote the following in a blog post titled Getting Real About Global CO2 Emissions: ….current science tells us that global carbon emissions MUST be cut in half over the next ten years for us to maintain a climate anywhere close to what we humans have enjoyed in our comparatively short time on earth. In that post I worked through the most recent science on the carbon budget climate scientists tell us we shouldn’t exceed to stay below a 2°C rise in global temperatures. However, global emissions have not decreased in the past two years; instead they have increased, making what we have to achieve in the coming years even more challenging. This has happened even though we achieved a slight aggregate reduction of GHG emissions in the US (a 10% drop in 2020 versus a 6% rise in 2021), and the successful enactment of a few nationally determined contributions (NDC’s), as outlined in the Paris Accords, most particularly by the European Union.

Current CO2 levels today are at the historically high figure of 417 ppm, which is 50% higher than at the beginning of the industrial revolution. In other words, in spite of lots of incredible efforts by millions of activists and sustainability professionals, hundreds of corporations, countless NGO’s and other agencies, and many national governments and world government organizations, we aren’t yet moving the needle downward on GHG emissions. Not yet, anyway.

Hope is an extraordinary thing, and there are new reasons to be hopeful every day (such as the recent creation of the Clean Energy Corp by the US Department of Energy). Still, I often hear others say that while they aren’t optimistic we will deal with climate change successfully, they are hopeful regardless. I feel the same way, and savor living each day with the future in mind far more than I despair over what we may have already wrought.

Yet, a persistent thought nags at me from the back of my mind, a thought that until now, I have only expressed to my closest friends. What happens if we fail? What happens if the world doesn’t get it together to stop our use of fossil fuels soon enough to avert catastrophe? What happens if we unwittingly set in motion one or a few climate tipping points (if we haven’t done so already), and climate chaos arrives suddenly and violently? What might that look like, and when might that happen? How will civilization respond? Will it be game over? Or might we rebuild something of value out of the rubble of a wounded, mangled or even collapsed civilization?

Jenny met Derek in Tucson outside a Walmart store. Recently released from prison, he is currently homeless. Jenny needed someone to watch her bike while she shopped for dinner, and he needed someone to keep an eye on his cellphone as it charged while he shopped. They negotiated an exchange: Jenny watched Derek’s phone while he shopped and Derek watched Jenny’s bike while she did. This unlikely exchange resulted in a long conversation with common ground on many subjects. As Jenny began to leave, she told Derek he was a good man, and to stay strong no matter what others said about him. He had served 2.5 years in jail for possessing narcotics. He believes he has paid his dues, and he dreams of moving home to Atlanta to be close to his daughter and opening up a car detailing shop. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deepfo.

I’m not alone in wondering about such outcomes. I suspect many readers of this blog have had similar fleeting thoughts. As it happens, there is a growing body of literature and activist thinking by writers (especially scholars) who are wondering (out-loud) if civilization will indeed collapse as climate change gets worse. The most well-known version of this literature is based on a paper published in 2018, and a subsequent book published in 2021 called Deep Adaptation: Navigating the Realities of Climate Chaos, edited by Jem Bendell and Rupert Read.

Some of the leading scholars of this approach are already convinced civilizational collapse is inevitable, and believe climate chaos will arrive in the next few decades. Others aren’t as certain the collapse of civilization is imminent, but strongly believe we should consider it a potential outcome for which we should make preparations. These perspectives are not intended to be nihilistic, and no scholar is suggesting we should refrain from doing all we can as quickly as we can to mitigate climate change. But Deep Adaptation does argue for a deeper accounting of adaptive processes. It is simultaneously a concept, agenda, and an international social movement. It assumes that extreme weather events and other related climate stressors will increasingly disrupt power, food, water, shelter, and social and governmental systems. The word deep in this context indicates that strong measures are required to adapt to an unraveling of western industrial lifestyles. That agenda includes values of nonviolence, compassion, curiosity, and respect, and a framework for constructive action. This agenda was recently featured in an article in Inside Climate News.

Seen near Fort Hancock, Texas. Photo by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

The term deep adaptation follows a logical naming sequence. A few decades ago, activists and scientists talked about mitigating the negative impacts of GHG in our atmosphere by finding alternatives to carbon-based fuels and increasing ways to draw down carbon through natural processes and technological fixes. However, over the years the realization that we also need to adapt to irretrievable changes already baked into our atmosphere and oceans are driving public conversation about changing where to locate human communities (and where not to), and how to prepare communities for more extreme weather. As a result, scientists and activists began to speak about helping communities to develop greater resilience as an attribute of adaptation. Now we have a term that describes the kind of adaptation we will need if climate chaos causes civilizations to collapse. Deep adaptation can be thought of as a re-adaptation of the structures of societies to create new ways for humans to survive and prosper.

There’s a related scientific field called collapsology that studies how civilizations have collapsed in the past, and how environmental overshoot might cause them to collapse in the future. Collapse in this context doesn’t necessarily mean that societal disruption will be sudden and complete, but does imply a form of breakdown in systems that is comprehensive and cannot be reversed. Deep Adaptation describes personal and collective responses to the anticipation or experience of societal collapse. And, as already stated, it suggests that by getting out in front of the possibility, we may have time to create new structures and/or institutions that will allow human life to flourish.

Seen on Texas State Highway 20, east of El Paso. Photo by Michael Chase. Following him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

Thus far, deep adaptation has been met with a great deal of resistance, and with only a few exceptions, it hasn’t caught the attention of media. After all, it is unthinkable. Anticipating societal collapse - whether from a range of environmental, economic, political or technological factors - has been attacked as pessimism, alarmism, doomism, fatalism or defeatism. Yet, proponents consider it would be defeatist to not even begin exploring what we can do to help in the face of massive societal disruption, and that any call for public engagement with the unthinkable is especially germane in this moment of a global pandemic. Not very long ago, it was unthinkable that a virus would shut down nations. It may have been this obvious global lack of preparation and resilience in the face of the COVID pandemic that inspired more than five hundred international scholars to sign and publicize a Scholar’s Warning Letter in March of 2021. The letter publicly addresses the equally unthinkable topics of societal disruption and potential collapse.

We met Raul east of El Paso as we were heading home. He was tending the field in front of his ranch, preparing to turn the hay under as green manure. He joked he was doing it for the exercise, since he had no access to water for planting anyway. Turns out much of the Rio Grande valley is in the 7th year of a drought; this one being the most serious one Raul has seen in the 50 years he’s lived in this valley. If farmers don’t have wells (the use of which, ironically lowers the water table), they have to rely on a water allotment from the local canal system. The canals are fed by Rio Grande river water, whose headwaters are the Weminuche Wilderness in southwestern Colorado, some 575 miles away. The wilderness is three quarters the size of Rhode Island, and has fed the Rio Grande for centuries. Now, between the competing problems of a reduced snowpack in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, and increased use of water upstream as New Mexico also grapples with drought, Raul’s usual allotment of 3 acre feet has been reduced to a few inches. Since Raul doesn’t have a well, he basically can’t grow anything now. He even said it would be risky to grow a vegetable garden because, “you never know if you’ll have the water”. Raul also told us that it used to be a lot colder, with some snow on the ground and more wind than now. We were enjoying the weather, but it was a placid day with full sunshine and about 65 degrees Fahrenheit. I asked Raul if he thought rain would come. He replied, “I hope so”. And I replied, “ I read a lot of climate science, and I think that although you might get occasional relief, what you’re going through now is likely to be the trend for a long time”. And I added, “I hope I’m wrong”. Raul gestured with open palms as if to say, what will come, will come. The Rio Grande is about a mile behind Raul’s ranch and the mountains in the distance are the Chihuahua Mountains of Mexico. Raul used to visit Mexico a lot but now the area behind his ranch is controlled by the cartel, so it’s no longer fun to go there. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow his work on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

It can take a while for new perspectives to establish themselves in academic communities, much less among citizens and policymakers. Think about how long it has taken to get consensus on even the most conservative scientific warnings about climate change. It was well over 30 years ago that Congress held its first hearing on the subject of a warming climate, long before we had a vocabulary for what is now everyday news: extreme weather, droughts, floods, sea level rise, ocean acidification, rapid biodiversity loss, crop loss and famine, human migration and resource wars over water and arable land.

Similar to many of the citizens, politicians, and media outlets represented in the movie Don’t Look Up, some of of us don’t want to face information that challenges our closely held assumptions of security. However, some people will find dignity no matter what is coming. The final scene in the movie is a window into that possibility. A small group of people (who fought hard to avoid what they are about to experience) share a simple and final meal accepting their fate and fortifying themselves through prayer and conversation over their good fortune to know and love one another. In that moment, as in all moments: acceptance and love, recognition and kindness, staring into the abyss and knowing humanity means something, even though like all things, it was just another blink of life in the everlasting expansion and contraction of universal consciousness.

We met Erik at Catalina State Park just outside of Tucson. A park ranger, he is also a licensed falconer, and was leading a seminar with Virgil, a Harris Hawk. Erik became falconer to Virgil a couple of years ago and is devoted to him. Yet, Erik seemed quite realistic about the limitations of the relationship. When Jenny asked him if he loved the bird, he blushed and said, “Well, it’s not reciprocal because Virgil has no emotion”. Jenny's (sotto voce) response to me was, “Call me crazy, but that bird is attached to Erik. You can see it in his eyes”. In any case, we were enchanted by the extraordinary relationship between this man and a hawk, and found it a great inspiration for how different species can harmonize in such a profound way. Perhaps on the other side of “Deep Adaptation,” we can cultivate more sacred and symbiotic relationships with other species on this fragile world. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Jenny’s sister, Terry Hershey, sent the following poem to start the new year in 2022. We both believe it says much about what the world needs right now.

Kindness

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to gaze at bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
It is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.

Naomi Shihab Nye, from Words Under the Words: Selected Poems

Stay vigilant! Thanks for reading. More to come. If you haven’t done so already, please subscribe to this blog, so you can follow our next biking trip later in the spring of 2022.

All material, unless credited or otherwise noted, are copyrighted property of the blog post authors.

Michael Johnson-Chase 10/5/21 Michael Johnson-Chase 10/5/21

Food Systems and Climate Change; Biking Prince Edward Island

Eliot Coleman, organic farming author and founder of the prolific agroecological Four Season Farm in Harborside, Maine, reflects on one of his favorite books, Soils and Men, a 1938 yearbook published by the USDA. The farm produces year-round vegetable crops, even under harsh winter conditions (using unheated and minimally heated greenhouses and polytunnels). Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo. — Eliot Coleman, organic farming author and founder of the prolific agroecological Four Season Farm in Harborside, Maine, reflects on one of his favorite books, *Soils and Men*, a 1938 yearbook published by the USDA. The farm produces year-round vegetable crops, even under harsh winter conditions (using unheated and minimally heated greenhouses and polytunnels). Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Fire made us human, fossil fuels made us modern, but now we need a new fire that makes us safe, secure, healthy and durable. - Amory Lovins

I don’t see problems, I see solutions. - Eliot Coleman, quoting Amory Lovins

The view just above Deer Isle on Maine’s central coast on the way to Prince Edward Island. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

Along the Way

Jenny and I left for our next biking adventure in mid-September. Following our usual custom for our bi-monthly explorations, we intended to drive to our starting place with our bikes in tow. This time our destination was Prince Edward Island (PEI) in Canada. We passed through Maine on the way, and stopped in Deer Isle to stay with friends Jack and Linda Viertel, who - knowing we have written about regenerative agriculture and climate change in previous blog posts - kindly introduced us to their friends Eliot Coleman and Barbara Damrosch.

The sun sets behind the sign that identifies the road to Four Season Farm in Harborside, Maine, where Eliot and Barbara live. The farm is currently managed by Eliot’s daughter Clara Coleman. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

Neither Jenny nor I fully grasped at the time what an extraordinary opportunity this was; both Eliot and Barbara are seminal authors, educators and very successful organic market gardeners. In addition, Eliot has invented many farm tools that other organic farmers have adopted over the years. Meeting them set the stage for subsequent meetings with organic farmers in PEI, as well as the helpful people we met at the Climate Lab at the University of PEI (more on that later). Everyone we talked to knew of Eliot Coleman’s work; he became a serendipitous calling card for all things organic, simply because we had been lucky enough to meet him along the way.

Several fields at Four Season Farm. The field in the foreground had just been tilled with an ample amount of green manure (crop residue from buckwheat plowed into the soil to enrich it) in preparation for a cover crop of winter rye. The field in the background was sown with peas and oats for the summer and will be planted with winter spinach, and the second greenhouse to the left will be moved over the spinach to optimize growing conditions. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

As urban devotees of regenerative agriculture, we especially appreciated hearing Eliot’s critical perspective that the current buzz around “regenerative” farming is being be co-opted by large agriculture companies with little genuine interest in solving environmental problems.

Consider the ways agriculture is supported through government subsidies. In the US alone, the meat and dairy industry receives 63% of total agriculture subsidies, compared to fruits and vegetables producers who receive only 0.04% of total subsidies. If you are a meat producer (whether your product is regenerative or not), you will receive subsidies that small-scale organic growers (especially market gardeners) won’t. This suggests at least one of the reasons “regenerative” has rapidly grown in popularity, eclipsing the older “organic” processes revived by farmers like Eliot Coleman. But subsidies are only part of the issue. Corporations notice consumer trends, and the recent popularity of the “farm to table” movement has also driven corporate influence over small-scale organic farms as well.

Consequently, Eliot Coleman is also not a fan of the ways the label “organic” has been diluted. He explains this on the farm website: Four Season Farm in Harborside, Maine has been farmed organically since its inception in 1968. However, we are NOT “USDA Certified Organic.” And for good reason. The USDA refuses to uphold the honest, old-time, carefully stewarded farming practices that organic has always represented. The USDA National Organic Program has been totally corrupted by the money, power, and influence of industrial food corporations. USDA certification is a hollow sham.

More vegetable fields at Four Season Farm. The greenhouse to the far left is the backside of the same one as in the previous picture, and it will be moved farther to the left to cover winter spinach. The extraordinarily productive field in the foreground is kale, lettuce and chard (photo taken mid-September). Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

The website goes on to explain what real organic standards should be: First, for uncompromised nutritional value all crops must be grown in a biologically active fertile soil in full contact with the earth and nourished by the natural biological activities of that soil. Research into the marvelously complex soil micro-biome reveals the vital ecological processes that support natural, non-chemical food production. Second, soil fertility should be maintained principally with farm-derived compost and mineral particles from ground rock. Why take the chance of bringing in polluted material from industrial sources when fertility can be created and maintained internally? Third, deep-rooting green manures, cover crops, and grazed pastures must be included within broadly based crop rotations to enhance soil fertility and biological diversity. The greater the variety of plants and animals on the farm, the more stable the system. Fourth, a “plant positive” rather than a “pest negative” philosophy is vital. The focus must be on correcting the cause of pest problems (weak plants) by creating optimum soil conditions to strengthen the plant, rather than merely treating the symptom (pest damage) by trying to kill the pests that are attracted to weak plants. More and more scientific evidence is available everyday on the mechanisms by which a biologically active fertile soil induces resistance to pests and diseases in the crops. Fifth, livestock must be raised outdoors on grass-based pasture systems to the fullest extent possible. Farm animals are an integral factor in the symbiosis of soil fertility on the organic farm.

Eliot looks over starts for the winter season in one of his greenhouses. Photo by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Arriving in Canada

In September of 2021, Canada opened their border for recreational travel to Americans who are fully vaccinated for Covid-19 and demonstrate negative results on a Covid PCR test within 72 hours before entering. PEI requires an additional negative result on a second rapid test upon entering the Province. Given these safeguards (combined with the fact that the percentage of fully vaccinated Canadians is significantly higher than Americans), we felt safer biking here than we would have in the U.S. The sadness and irony of that realization wasn’t lost on us; in fact, it probably made us more attentive to the Canadian approaches to the science of both Covid and our rapidly changing climate.

After their kids left the nest, Yeung and his wife left their home in Vancouver and came to PEI, where they bought a mid-century motel in Murray Harbor in the southeast of PEI. Yeung kept us safe from mosquitoes with his racquet zapper. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Interestingly, we encountered no political resistance to Covid vaccination efforts or masking mandates in anyone we met. All of the major political parties in Canada (except the ultra-right Peoples Party of Canada at 4% of the electorate), are strongly pro-vaccine and equally attentive to the science of climate change. In fact, because we arrived just before the recall election, we had the refreshing opportunity to watch the major two parties - the Liberals and Conservatives (aka Tories) - attempt to outdo one another on general media about how to address both the pandemic and the climate emergency. We met no one who isn’t concerned about Canada’s rapidly changing climate. Perhaps this is because climate changes are more intensified toward the equator and at both poles, so the further to the north one is located the more obvious the changes are. In any case, the focus on method over content in Canadian politics was a refreshing change from American politics, where our major political parties perceive themselves as inhabiting planets facing distinctly different threats.

Charlottetown is near the blue dot. This is PEI’s largest city, with a metropolitan population of about 80,000 of the island’s 160,000 people. The purple lines on this map form the spine and the spurs of the Confederation Trail. The points at the ends of the wings are North Point in the northwest and East Point in the east. There are wind farms near both points, the largest in North Point. Currently, renewables supply about 25% of the Province’s power; they will supply 100% by 2040. PEI has no natural gas lines, and most cooking and heating is already electric. Summerside, a town in central PEI of about 15,000, uses wind farms, solar arrays, smart grids, industrial-scale lithium-ion batteries and the highest per capita concentration of electric car chargers in the country, and expects to derive the majority of its electricity from renewable sources by 2022. A fascinating story is how the town is dealing with the problem of intermittency: there are a suite of specialized appliances in homes throughout the city that can store energy as heat rather than electricity. This can be read about in more depth here. Photo from GuruMaps Pro. — Charlottetown is near the blue dot. This is PEI’s largest city, with a metropolitan population of about 80,000 of the island’s 160,000 people. The purple lines on this map form the spine and the spurs of the Confederation Trail. The points at the ends of the wings are North Point in the northwest and East Point in the east. There are wind farms near both points, the largest in North Point. Currently, renewables supply about 25% of the Province’s power; they will supply 100% by 2040. PEI has no natural gas lines, and most cooking and heating is already electric. Summerside, a town in central PEI of about 15,000, uses wind farms, solar arrays, smart grids, industrial-scale lithium-ion batteries and the highest per capita concentration of electric car chargers in the country, and expects to derive the majority of its electricity from renewable sources by 2022. A fascinating story is how the town is dealing with the problem of intermittency: there are a suite of specialized appliances in homes throughout the city that can store energy as heat rather than electricity. This can be read about in more depth here. Photo from GuruMaps Pro.

We left our car at the parking lot for the Woods Island ferry to Caribou, Nova Scotia, and have spent the last several weeks biking the island. PEI is about 200 miles from end-to-end, and shaped like an angel’s wing veering rightward. What we missed in biking long distances every day, we made up for by enjoying biking the inland spines of the “rail to trail” conversion called “The Confederation Trail,” meandering the many mellow coastal roads that circumnavigate numerous bays, estuaries, peninsulas, isolated and peaceful beaches, and exploring lovely farming towns and charming fishing villages. The trip was idyllic.

Taken on the north shore of PEI not far from Cabot Provincial Park, this picture demonstrates how erosion works on the shoreline. Waves wear away the sandstone cliffs until they collapse from underneath. Because of sea-level rise and increased storm surges, PEI has been losing an average of about two feet a year of its shoreline. Scientists expect the rate of erosion to worsen in the future. Other impacts of climate change on PEI include steadily rising average temperatures, milder winters with less snow, increasing swings between excessive drought and precipitation events, and greater exposure to extreme weather events such as hurricanes, storm surges and destructive winds. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

Cabins are plentiful in PEI. Some are delightfully rustic and placed on windswept cliffs over the Gulf of Saint Lawrence in the north or the Northumberland Straight on the south shore. With only a few exceptions most have kitchens. After discovering that dining out was very expensive compared to cooking our own food, we began to sample the island’s sustainably raised mussels, oysters and lobsters by buying seafood at many of the small shops near the waterfronts. PEI mussels (which sell for CAD 1.50 - 2.00 a pound) are farm-raised on ropes hung in the ocean, which ensures that there is no dredging or disturbance to the ocean floor. Since there is no dredging, delicate life forms are undisturbed.

Oyster cages can be seen in the distance at a sustainable oyster farm. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohsonchase.

Oysters can be raised sustainably as well. The production cycle on a Canadian oyster farm begins with the collection/production of oyster larvae. Some farmers still collect larvae in the wild; however, larvae are increasingly produced in controlled hatchery facilities from spawning adult broodstock. The larvae are kept suspended in tanks by circulating water – and in a few weeks they transform into tiny seed. The seed is essentially a very small version of the adult oyster. Once the seed reaches an appropriate size, it can be transferred to the ocean for final grow-out in cages that are moved every year for 3 to 4 years to stimulate growth and achieve a marketable size.

While we were reading an historical placard out loud at the old fishing harbor of Tignish Shore, Hector approached us and pointed himself out in a 1953 schoolhouse photo (upper right). A retired lobsterman, Hector bought his lobster fishing license for CAD 25 cents; now they cost CAD 1.5 million. Hector has survived many storms over the years. Because the beach kept receding, the provincial government moved his boyhood home (where he still lives) from the beach to the inland side of the street. Hector has watched the shoreline at Tignish Shore recede at least two hundred feet during his lifetime. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Perhaps most exciting for us as laypeople (beyond eating these exquisite creatures) was recognizing the value of the industry to the local environment. Mussels and oysters raised in estuaries live off plankton and are very productive at filtering water; even nitrogen (a problem in PEI because of extensive commercial potato farming) and pesticides are absorbed and deposited in inert form on the sea bottom through feces by these amazing shellfish.

We met Frances, an oyster fisherman, at Yeung’s motel on the first day of the oyster season at Murray Harbour. Fishing the older conventional way by using 12-foot-long tongs (they used to be regulated for 10 feet, but the water is deeper now because of sea level rise), he rakes wild oysters off the sandy bottom in the numerous estuaries around the island. Frances (and his partner Pete) brought back 26 crates of oysters their first day out. They will earn CAD 50 cents per oyster for the bigger ones (which would cost USD 3-4). Both Frances and Pete were pleased with their catch, and they celebrated by gifting us a dozen of their largest oysters and another dozen quahogs. Needless to say, we were delighted! Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Why Bother?

In August, 2021, the International Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) published the 6th assessment of our changing climate (the first assessment was published in 1990). For the report, hundreds of scientists all over the world assess thousands of scientific papers published annually to provide a comprehensive summary of what is known about climate change, its impacts and future risks, and how efforts at adaptation and mitigation can reduce risks. The assessments represent the best of global general scientific consensus about what is most likely to happen to our climate in the near and reasonably near futures, depending on how many greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions humans continue to release into the atmosphere.

Although climate science has improved greatly over the years, most humans now understand we are placing our children and grandchildren at considerable risk by continuing to emit greenhouse gases into the atmosphere. But the recent IPCC report is sanguine. In general, emissions are not stabilizing, much less decreasing. We aren’t meeting the moment yet, and we are rapidly approaching crisis. We have only a few decades to decarbonize our atmosphere before we hit tipping points that may undermine civilization as we know it.

From left to right are Ross Dwyer, Erin Taylor and Stephanie Arnold. All three of them spent several hours chatting with us about PEI’s sustainability plans, particularly in the agricultural sector. PEI appears to be situated well for success, and key players in all industries are feeling pressure and excitement about improving their processes to become more sustainable. Ross Dwyer is the ClimateSense Project Coordinator and Project Manager at the Climate Lab at UPEI. Ross is a passionate representative, and was very welcoming to Jenny and me. Erin Taylor is the Manager of the Climate Change Secretariat at PEI’s Department of Environment. She is an intrepid connector and environmental advocate. Stephanie Arnold is a prolific author and PhD Candidate (UPEI). Her technical specialty is helping potato farmers adapt to societal pressures to become more sustainable and adapt to rapidly changing growing conditions. Read about the Provincial Prince Edward Island Climate Plan here. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

Fortunately, many governments are listening to these onerous warnings, the PEI provincial government among them. But our talks with the climate team of university and government officials in PEI weren’t about quantifying GHG emissions, nor was it about making a transition in energy systems. That has to happen, and it’s already underway. But for the people we talked to that’s the easier part of dealing with climate change. Transformation in agriculture, which is the cornerstone of life on this island (and always has been) is the preoccupying problem, because farming here is so integral. And underlying how we live on the land is a more fundamental issue - our most cherished values.

Stephanie Arnold from the UPEI Climate Lab shares her feelings about the unfair blame directed at many well-meaning potato farmers by uninformed environmentalists. We were lucky enough to hear Stephanie speak publicly (along with Adam MacClean) at a panel event on agriculture and climate change in New Glasgow. When asked what single-most important action she thought could be undertaken to get at the root causes of climate change, Stephanie answered Canadians could review and recommit to the country’s original Treaty Agreements with indigenous nations. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo. — Stephanie Arnold from the UPEI Climate Lab shares her feelings about the unfair blame directed at many well-meaning potato farmers by uninformed environmentalists.
We were lucky enough to hear Stephanie speak publicly (along with Adam MacClean) at a panel event on agriculture and climate change in New Glasgow. When asked what single-most important action she thought could be undertaken to get at the root causes of climate change, Stephanie answered Canadians could review and recommit to the country’s original Treaty Agreements with indigenous nations. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Adam MacLean describes himself as a shepherd-entrepreneur-scientist and very recently, a public servant, working with the PEI Department of Agriculture and Land as their Organic & Perennial Crop Development Officer. He practices regenerative agriculture by managing pastured livestock to produce nutritious meats in a way that respects the animal and heals the land. Together with his flock, in partnership with Island landowners, they are building soil, sequestering carbon and feeding the community. We were lucky enough to hear him speak in New Glasgow, where he agreed passionately with Stephanie Arnold that our biggest challenge is reckoning with our most fundamental values. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram @deeofo. — Adam MacLean describes himself as a shepherd-entrepreneur-scientist and very recently, a public servant, working with the PEI Department of Agriculture and Land as their Organic & Perennial Crop Development Officer. He practices regenerative agriculture by managing pastured livestock to produce nutritious meats in a way that respects the animal and heals the land. Together with his flock, in partnership with Island landowners, they are building soil, sequestering carbon and feeding the community. We were lucky enough to hear him speak in New Glasgow, where he agreed passionately with Stephanie Arnold that our biggest challenge is reckoning with our most fundamental values. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram @deeofo.

Our conversations revealed a collective agreement that climate change is a symptom of a larger problem: societies that value the rights of powerful individuals over those of poorer communities, societies that seek to dominate nature rather than live within natural processes, societies that place individual rights and personal consumption ahead of a collective commons with the capacity to allow all humans to live in natural abundance. Those are societies most responsible for polluting our atmosphere and bringing us to the brink of extinction.

Such talk used to be the province of the crazy and marginalized. But in PEI, such talk seems to be increasingly normal. Views are shifting everywhere, and PEI is small enough that shift is palpable. After all, relationships are the true currency of change, and that currency in a place as small as PEI is alive and well.

We saw this Bald Eagle (Canadians call them Sea Eagles) lift off a tree near North Point in PEI. For us urbanites, there are few things more exciting. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

Organic and Regenerative Farming in PEI

Our first few days on the island revealed little information about farmers, other than the unmissable reality of the large and ubiquitous potato industry and the equally accessible shellfish and lobster industries. Before we learned more about how conventional potatoes were farmed, we were happy to dig up a few potatoes for our dinners as we biked by the corners of commercial fields. That is, until we learned that commercial potatoes growers use a spray that kills the plants from the ground up, leaving the potatoes easier to harvest. Although Roundup (glyphosate) is repeatedly used to kill weeds on the fields earlier in the season, we were never able to determine whether that is the herbicide used to kill the plants at harvest. But even if you never eat another potato from PEI, please understand that glyphosate is still the most-used herbicide in the U.S. Unless you’ve eaten only organic vegetables for years, you’ve been exposed to it in large quantities already. In any case. our past blog posts on regenerative agriculture and our serendipitous meeting with Eliot Coleman focused us to understand more about the agriculture scene in PEI.

We managed to look beyond the potatoes once we got wind of the PEI Certified Organic Producers Co-op (COPC) through an email exchange with my friend Regina Grabrovac of Healthy Acadia in Machias, a Maine-based food systems specialist and organic certification official for the USDA. Once we learned from Regina where and how to look, we began to appreciate how much fresh food was available all over the island.

Brian MacKay, an organic farmer at Crystal Green Farms in Bedeque, PEI, raises organic vegetables and livestock, as well as operates a small flour mill where they mill their own grains and prepare baking mixes. Their milled products can also be foun… — Brian MacKay, an organic farmer at Crystal Green Farms in Bedeque, PEI, raises organic vegetables and livestock, as well as operates a small flour mill where they mill their own grains and prepare baking mixes. Their milled products can also be found on the shelves of many local retailers. Once Brian learned that Jenny was a vegetarian for environmental reasons, he patiently asked us what we thought “Beyond Beef” was made from? Did we think that the peas, corn and soy in the product was grown without fertilizers, herbicides, and pesticides? Did we think it was grown with crops that haven’t been sprayed with glyphosate? Did we think the crops used weren’t genetically modified, tying them in with Monsanto and other seed monopolies? (We checked the Beyond Meat website and supposedly they do not use GMO crops). Even so, might it be that eating beef, pork, chicken, lamb or sheep grazing in a field of perennial grasses creating healthy soil while sequestering carbon, was a better option environmentally? As Brian spoke, his grandson, Xaviar, hung onto every word, as did we. What do you think? Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Kathy MacCay from Crystal Green Farms in the 140 year-old farmhouse in which she was raised, and in which she raised her children. She has lived in this house for most of her life. Kathy runs a tight ship working with husband Brian and caring part-time for her 14 grandchildren. Somehow, she also managed to cook us delicious homemade waffles (from a pancake flour mix milled in their barn for market distribution). Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

The COPC is run through volunteers. We assumed the most active farmers in the organization might be among the most dynamic farmers in PEI, so we reached out to their chief officers. COPC President Brian Mackay and his wife Kathy own and operate Crystal Green Farms located in Bedeque, PEI. Vice President Sally Bernard from nearby Freetown, co-manages a local Organic Grainery, and is the primary force behind raising livestock at Barnyard Organics. We weren’t disappointed. As characteristically warm and friendly as other islanders, they both welcomed us to stop by, meet their families, and learn about their operations.

Mark Bernard makes a point about commercial versus organic feedstock. Mark is from Freetown, PEI, and along with his wife Sally converted his traditional family farm in 2002 into a Certified Organic production (primarily as a financial consideration). As their soil management practices improved and they witnessed land and nature respond positively to their organic practices, they started taking organic more seriously. They’ve never looked back. Sally co-manages the expanding Organic Grainery, and together they operate  Barnyard Organics. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo. — Mark Bernard makes a point about commercial versus organic feedstock. Mark is from Freetown, PEI, and along with his wife Sally converted his traditional family farm in 2002 into a Certified Organic production (primarily as a financial consideration). As their soil management practices improved and they witnessed land and nature respond positively to their organic practices, they started taking organic more seriously. They’ve never looked back. Sally co-manages the expanding Organic Grainery, and together they operate Barnyard Organics. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Sally, the youngest of nine from a cattle-ranching family, immediately impressed us with her wit and joy. She met Mark at the Agriculture University in Truro and told us she was immediately smitten. Together they work the land and raise four beautiful children. Sally has a special place in her heart for their three pigs (Dolly, Shania and Reba) and two dairy cows. They no longer raise chickens for market, but they keep quite a few hens for selling pasture raised eggs. Sally dislikes the local Sea Eagles, who will swoop down undetected, lift chickens in their claws and take them away to eat. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

COPC was established in 2002 and is composed of organic producers and like-minded consumers who wish to see organic agriculture grow within Prince Edward Island. They are a coalition of growers and not a certifying body. Instead, under the Safe Food for Canadians Regulations (SFCR), any food, seed, or animal feed that is labelled organic is regulated by the Canadian Food Inspection Agency (CFIA).

Brian MacCay explains how the multiple grinding and sifting options work on his new flour mill from Austria. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

This allows COPC to function as an advocate for organic growers. Their vision entails a vibrant organic industry in PEI, and they are committed to supporting: 1) Quality healthy food for Islanders, 2) A revitalized rural economy and culture, 3) Protecting and enhancing the environment, and 4) A fair income for organic farmers.

Mark and Sally standing next to their new “no-till” seeder. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram @mjohnsonchase.

This trip has caused us both to think a lot about the foods we eat and their intricate relationship to our changing climate. Clearly, there are wonderful upsides of knowing the farmer who grows your vegetables, grain, meat or fish. When you buy direct from the grower you can ask what he or she did to raise that food. But most of us don’t have that luxury.

However, it’s important we all know that, worldwide, the agriculture sector accounts for 25% of greenhouse gas emissions and as much as 75% of the world’s freshwater use, an issue that has grown more severe in recent decades as more farms have become industrialized to increase productivity. Farmers globally receive roughly $683 billion in government subsidies each year and government aid is expected to more than triple by 2030. Yet roughly 87 percent of these funds currently support industrial farming practices (mainly in the developed world) that harm the environment and human health. They also disproportionately help large corporations at the expense of smaller farmers and make food more expensive for millions of people. These are findings of a new UN report calling for repurposing damaging incentives to achieve more of the 2030 Sustainable Development Goals and realize the UN Decade of Ecosystem Restoration.

The most problematic supports are those tied to the production of specific commodities like corn, soy, or beef, said the study's authors. These funds encourage farmers to grow fewer crops and boost their yield with fertilizers, pesticides and other environmentally harmful technologies. Beyond this approach's environmental impact, the industrial production of a few commodities can make them unnaturally cheap while driving up the price of other, more nutritious foods. For instance, in many developed countries, industrial farms growing major commodity crops such as corn and soy, receive billions to help them stay afloat. Yet, as was stated earlier in this post, smaller-scale, more diverse and sustainable farms - who pollute and use water in significantly smaller quantities - tend to receive minimal or no government support at all.

Michael Rossy is a well-known, organic farmer from near Montreal (Runaway Creek Farm in Arundel), who retired as a “hobby” farmer on a lovely farmstead and B&B called Heart and Soul, about 30 kilometers south of North Point in Highway 12. An innovator all his life, Michael currently pushes the envelope by growing and selling - among other unusual things - Asian Pears, Asian Pear Melons and Gojiberries. He enjoys showing locals that anything is possible with great soil, and tender loving care. Drawing by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

…If we truly want a sustainable food future, we have to stop looking at food as capital and start looking at long-term land restoration projects, creating healthier soils, and creating more localized growth of food and food sharing that isn't out to make a buck, said Sarah Dunigan, host of the food-focused podcast Anthrodish, as quoted in Canada’s excellent Climate Change newsletter, the National Observer.

In other words, we need to change our values.

Stay vigilant! Thanks for reading. More to come. If you haven’t done so already, please subscribe to this blog, so you can follow our next biking trip later in the fall.

All material, unless credited or otherwise noted, are copyrighted property of the blog post authors.

These buildings were on the pier at a small fishing village named Darnley near Rustico. The photo is a favorite of Jenny’s. Photo by Jenny Hershey. Follow her on Instagram @deeofo.

Michael Johnson-Chase 7/22/21 Michael Johnson-Chase 7/22/21

A Carbon Collage; Biking the Great Lakes

On a hot summer day in July, Molly, a farm manager with Verdant Hollow Farms in Buchanan, Michigan checks in on her happy and well-fed goats (animal welfare approved)!

You cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today. - Abraham Lincoln

The future depends on what we do in the present. - Mahatma Gandhi

We left Jenny’s Prius in Muskegon, MI in a wooded backyard storage area we located through an app called Neighbor. Our intention was to bicycle along the Lake Michigan coast across the Upper Peninsula, south into central Wisconsin and then over to Manitowoc to ferry across the lake back to the Michigan coast. But bicycle trips often inspire improvisation, and our route changed a bit to include both Munising and Marquette on the Lake Superior coastline. Unfortunately, we ran out of time (because we had the happy opportunity to visit my kids and grandkids in Wisconsin) so we didn’t get to some of the incredible places further west in the UP and far northern Wisconsin and Minnesota, but we will on another trip. This incredible north country got under our skin, and opened our eyes to another vast and remote area of this country we now long to see.

We began in Muskegon on the Michigan shore, rode to the Upper Peninsula, over to Marquette, and down to Manitowoc, WI, where we took a ferry to Ludington, MI and back to Muskegon. After that we visited Verdant Hollow Farm near Buchanan, MI. This map shows opencyclemap.org and United States Bike Route System (USBRS) routes in blue. We follow some of those, and some routes developed by the Adventure Cycling Association. Occasionally we just followed our noses.

Interestingly, the weather around the Great Lakes was pleasant for most of our trip. Although it was hot and rainy when we started, it became only slightly warm, and dry. Given that we track climate events, our enjoyment of good weather was bittersweet amidst the record shattering heat wave in the Pacific Northwest and British Columbia, the persistent drought, relentless heat and horrible forest fires plaguing the American and Canadian west, and the damaging, disrupting and record breaking flooding in Germany and then China.

Forrest, the 17th of 19 children, remembers a hard-scrabble childhood in the Upper Peninsula. He now runs a successful roadside flower and vegetable business with his wife. Forrest’s family finally got electricity and running water when he was 6 years old. He joked that he now has more technology around his neck in his iPhone than you can find in a spaceship! He remembers when and how the first pipeline was built across the Mackinaw Straights, and he thinks the proposed new one will be far safer. For that reason he supports it, even though he knows climate change is an existential threat and is a strong supporter of decarbonized future. In fact, he described at some length how different the snow is now in the UP compared to his childhood. Drawing by Jennifer Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram at deeofo.

Like many other climate activists, I’m not surprised by such events, even though they always gnaw at my soul. Yet, every crisis inspires new hope that the inevitable shoe will drop and climate deniers will finally join the rest of the world in trying to solve the climate crisis, or at least get out of the way so others can. But truculent, misguided beliefs don’t die easily. As we boarded the SS Badger with our bikes near the end of our trip I mentioned those events as more evidence of a warming atmosphere to a Trump supporter. I was unhesitatingly told that weather events like that happen all the time, that volcanic eruptions add more carbon to the atmosphere than mankind ever has, and that warming is an act of God and we would be under 4000 feet of ice if it wasn’t happening. And then my tormentor-in-line told me with considerable glee the ferry we were about to take was the last remaining coal fired ferry in operation in the country. He is right about the ferry - and dead wrong about everything else.

The SS Badger is the last coal-fired passenger vessel operating on the Great Lakes, and was designated a National Historic Landmark on January 20, 2016. The ship came under fire from the EPA and environmental groups in late 2008 because of its daily practice of dumping untreated coal ash from its boilers directly into the waters of Lake Michigan. Burning 50 tons of coal a day produces 3.63 tons of ash. The SS Badger had earlier been the subject of EPA Clean Air action but was granted an exemption under the law due to its historical significance as a coal-fired, steam-powered vessel. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram at mjohnsonchase. — The SS Badger is the last coal-fired passenger vessel operating on the Great Lakes, and was designated a National Historic Landmark on January 20, 2016. The ship came under fire from the EPA and environmental groups in late 2008 because of its daily practice of dumping untreated coal ash from its boilers directly into the waters of Lake Michigan. Burning 50 tons of coal a day produces 3.63 tons of ash. The SS Badger had earlier been the subject of EPA Clean Air action but was granted an exemption under the law due to its historical significance as a coal-fired, steam-powered vessel. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram at mjohnsonchase.

It was a beautiful ride across the lake in placid waters, in spite of the depressing context. I checked the news on my iPhone. To add to my ever present black-humor-climate-despair, I came across an article in Inside Climate that reported the latest projections of the International Energy Agency (IEA) are that greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions will hit record levels again in 2023. Sigh….

Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram at mjohnsonchase.

We disembarked in a cloud of coal smoke.

Nevertheless, the Great Lakes are extraordinary natural treasures. Collectively, they hold about 90% of the freshwater in the United States and approximately 20% of the world's freshwater supply, with Lake Superior alone holding half of it. Both Lake Michigan and Superior can be surprisingly clear, quite colorful and deliciously bracing. In many places the surrounding forests are equally abundant and healthy, although many parts of Lake Michigan coastline are highly developed and coastal forests are a fraction of what they used to be.

Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore near Munising, MI, where the 200-foot Pictured Rocks cliff face plummeted into Lake Superior earlier this summer. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram at mjohnsonchase.

Like everywhere else on our magnificent planet, the changing climate in the Great Lakes Region has both global and specific attributes. Over the last 100 years global temperatures have increased an average of almost 2 degrees Fahrenheit, and the rate of atmospheric temperature change is speeding up. Increased atmospheric warming creates two opposing physics in the Great Lakes region. Greater heat causes increases in evaporation. Yet, warmer air also causes increases in precipitation during the summer (and decreased amounts of snow in the winter). The competing occurrences of increased evaporation and summer rainfall are currently tipping the lakes toward record levels of lake water, although many scientists believe water levels will eventually drop as atmospheric heat increases and evaporation wins out over precipitation.

Mike is the owner of the Colonial Motel in Manistique, MI. He leans conservative, and served a few years as a city councilman in a small Indiana town near Chicago, where he became frustrated by local corruption and nepotism. Mike was highly affected by the mortgage collapse of 2007, and spent years scrambling to get whole again. After 4 years of running (and considerably improving) the motel, Mike is now content living with his two dachshunds and his Elvis memorabilia. He told us he has intentionally simplified his circle of influence to those he can impact directly. Something about his story made me question why I get so angry at climate deniers, since they are so clearly out of my circle of influence…. Drawing by Jennifer Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram at deeofo.

Either way, the result won’t be as pleasant now as predictable as weather was before the Anthropocene began (the geological epoch when human activity began to change the atmosphere, ending the Holocene). In the meantime, the average temperatures of lake water everywhere are warmer than they used to be. Perhaps you’ve noticed an increase in algae blooms on fresh water near you, which is driven by a combination of increasing temperatures on still water and fertilizer runoff. Consider them another version of a canary in a coal mine.

As beautiful as they are, these algae blooms on marshland on the Lake Michigan shoreline near Little River, WI are  killing most of the life underneath them by depriving the water of oxygen. Photo by Jennifer Hershey. Follow her on Instagram at deeofo. — As beautiful as they are, these algae blooms on marshland on the Lake Michigan shoreline near Little River, WI are killing most of the life underneath them by depriving the water of oxygen. Photo by Jennifer Hershey. Follow her on Instagram at deeofo.

In fact, some of the surfaces of the world's largest lakes are warming faster than ocean and air temperatures. Lake Michigan surface temperatures are estimated to be warming at a rate of as much as a third of a degree Celsius per decade. The overall warming, ice loss and shrinking winters could lead to long-term shifts, altering the lake's food web and sending fisheries into uncharted territory.

We saw these signs all over lawns on Torch Lake between Traverse City and Charlevoix, MI. Clearly, homeowners on the lake are realizing that fertilizers of any type (organic or conventional) result in phosphorus and nitrogen runoff, which feeds toxic algae and, with the help of warmer temperatures, results in uncontrollable blooms on the lake. It’s gratifying to see homeowners come together in an attempt to make smart choices. Photo by Jennifer Hershey. Follow her on Instagram at deeofo.

It’s July and the Michigan countryside is quite verdant. Some of the beauty around us is the result of the largest single land protection project in Michigan state history.

There are also 158 miles of private lakeshore property in smaller land trusts on the lower Lake Michigan shoreline with 110 miles of hiking trails on Little Traverse Bay above Traverse City on the Lake Michigan Coast of Michigan. Much of that land is set aside as conservation easements through the Little Traverse Conservancy, in land trusts on property with large secluded homes. (Yes, tax breaks for wealthy landowners.) However, much of Lake Michigan beachfront is privately owned and not publicly accessible. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram at mjohnsonchase. — The work of The Nature Conservancy, the Northern Great Lakes Forest Project, protects 271,338 acres stretching across eight counties in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Their work is evidence that not all land use and conservation easement projects are the same, and paying attention to the details reveals a lot. By adopting an innovative "working lands" approach to conservation, this project not only provides the people of Michigan with the permanent protection of some of the state’s most treasured landscapes, but also helps protect thousands of timber and tourism jobs that working families in the area rely on for their livelihoods.

In addition to seeing references to numerous land use projects, we are also seeing very little exposed soil. This is notable to my fledging eye as we bike along at about 15 miles an hour. Only in the last year have I learned how to identify the more obvious signs of carbon-poor soil. I’ve seen little of it this trip, and find myself wondering what we would notice if we were biking in Michigan in the Spring or Fall. Would we see the cover crops and evidence of reduced tilling that characterizes regenerative farming?

Kevin lives in his meticulously customized and highly efficient Mercedes van with his two bikes. He supports himself by selling stickers but his passion is his YouTube channel nomad bike rider. (He interviewed us; check it out!) We had stopped for a momentary rest near Marquette when Kevin approached us and said he had just seen a bald headed eagle fly over us into a nearby tree. Together we found the eagle. Drawing by Jennifer Hershey. Follow her on Instagram at deeofo. — Kevin lives in his meticulously customized and highly efficient Mercedes van with his two bikes. He supports himself by selling stickers but his passion is his YouTube channel *nomad bike rider.* (He interviewed us; check it out!) We had stopped for a momentary rest near Marquette when Kevin approached us and said he had just seen a bald headed eagle fly over us into a nearby tree. Together we found the eagle. Drawing by Jennifer Hershey. Follow her on Instagram at deeofo.

The eagle resting in a tree on the Lake Superior shoreline. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram at mjohnsonchase.

Or would we see the more common large tracts of exposed soil that are common to industrial farming? I suspect the latter, even though every square inch of soil that is not covered by buildings, concrete, algae blooms, water, gravel pits and human waste is green. Deep green. The Midwest in a hot and wet July is an experience in intensity; the green poetry of explosive photosynthesis is everywhere, it literally sticks to one’s skin and gets up one’s nose. You can smell things growing. And just as the earth keeps reminding me it’s not about to give up on life even if the human race fails itself, I see hopeful things every day as citizens from both political parties take on troublesome issues to protect their local environments. Here are some of the many examples we encountered.

We saw many similar signs as we crossed the Mackinaw Straights (by ferry from Mackinaw City to Mackinaw Island and then to St. Ignace) and ventured into the UP. Turns out that Pipeline #5 is a proposed replacement pipeline for a current one that already traverses the straights. Built in the 1950’s the current pipeline is a steel tube on the bottom of the lake secured by concrete slabs. Enbridge (the same company that built sections of the currently abandoned Keystone Pipeline, as well as the pipeline that caused the largest on-land oil spill in US history in Kalamazoo, MI in 2010) says the new tunnel will be far safer than the current one with its aging steel and inadequate infrastructure. Opponents say otherwise. Later in the trip we saw a similar sign for Pipeline 3, another Enbridge Pipeline “replacement” project that cuts through northern Minnesota.  Here’s an interesting You Tube presentation on Line 3. Photos by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram at mjohnsonchase. — We saw many similar signs as we crossed the Mackinaw Straights (by ferry from Mackinaw City to Mackinaw Island and then to St. Ignace) and ventured into the UP. Turns out that Pipeline #5 is a proposed replacement pipeline for a current one that already traverses the straights. Built in the 1950’s the current pipeline is a steel tube on the bottom of the lake secured by concrete slabs. Enbridge (the same company that built sections of the currently abandoned Keystone Pipeline, as well as the pipeline that caused the largest on-land oil spill in US history in Kalamazoo, MI in 2010) says the new tunnel will be far safer than the current one with its aging steel and inadequate infrastructure. Opponents say otherwise. Later in the trip we saw a similar sign for Pipeline 3, another Enbridge Pipeline “replacement” project that cuts through northern Minnesota. Here’s an interesting You Tube presentation on Line 3. Photos by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram at mjohnsonchase.

With all the media attention given to Richard Branson’s and Jeff Bezo’s recent journeys to the outer edge of our atmosphere, it was interesting to see these signs in a community that doesn’t want to spoil the Granot Loma’s pristine Lake Superior coast with a commercial rocket launch site. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram at mjohnsonchase.

Many locals oppose the construction of the proposed Back Forty Mine on the Menominee River, and believe they are saving lives because the mine will contaminate air, water and soil, and endanger wildlife, property values, sacred lands, local tourism and permanent residents. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram at mjohnsonchase. — Many locals oppose the construction of the proposed Back Forty Mine on the Menominee River, and believe they are saving lives because the mine will contaminate air, water and soil, and endanger wildlife, property values, sacred lands, local tourism and permanent residents. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram at mjohnsonchase.

We noticed this sign near Peshtigo, WI, and realized we had wandered into a local struggle between Wisconsin residents and Johnson Controls-Tyco, a PFAS-infused firefighting foam manufacturer. For years there was no Clean Air or Water Acts watching out for the environment, and people weren’t thinking about potential air quality impacts or soil, surface and groundwater contamination. Then, in 2017 the Wisconsin DNR announced PFAS contamination in the Marinette/Peshtigo area as the highest known in the state. That’s when local residents learned that many private wells were situated in the center of the contamination plume. Shortly after that they formed a small group, concerned friends and neighbors, which later morphed into SOH2O, Save Our Water. — We noticed this sign near Peshtigo, WI, and realized we had wandered into a local struggle between Wisconsin residents and Johnson Controls-Tyco, a PFAS-infused firefighting foam manufacturer. For years there was no Clean Air or Water Acts watching out for the environment, and people weren’t thinking about potential air quality impacts or soil, surface and groundwater contamination. Then, in 2017 the Wisconsin DNR announced PFAS contamination in the Marinette/Peshtigo area as the highest known in the state. That’s when local residents learned that many private wells were situated in the center of the contamination plume. Shortly after that they formed a small group, concerned friends and neighbors, which later morphed into SOH2O, Save Our Water. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram at mjohnsonchase.

On a happier note, this past June the US Senate passed the Growing Climate Solutions Act of 2021 by a vote of 92-8, a remarkable bipartisan achievement for our divided Congress. Currently, there is a companion bill awaiting a hearing by the House Committee on Agriculture. If passed by the House, this legislation will make it easier for landowners to participate in the voluntary marketplace to sequester carbon and reduce greenhouse gas emissions. This bill tasks the USDA with ensuring that third-party verification of projects is accessible and affordable by providing technical assistance and creating a certification program.

Basically this means farmers, ranchers and foresters will be able to sell carbon credits as offsets to others in the voluntary carbon market in exchange for the carbon they sequester in their soil by using regenerative agriculture practices. They can then sell those credits (as offsets) to others who are looking to lower their overall carbon emissions as a form of trade. With this legislation, projects can also sequester carbon through afforestation (tree planting), cover cropping, low or no till farming, conservation and wetland easements and numerous other “healthy soil growing” applications.

Carbon offsets allows individuals, companies or even governments to pay to reduce their global greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions total instead of making radical or impossible reductions of their own. GHG emissions mix quickly with the air and, unlike other pollutants, spread around the entire planet. Because of this, it doesn't really matter where GHG reductions take place if fewer emissions enter the atmosphere. It’s important to note that to date, voluntary carbon markets have failed to lower the steady global rise in carbon emissions, although they probably have slowed the rise to a small degree. As the voluntary carbon market increases in size (which this bill will accelerate) it may help to decrease the global rise in carbon emissions more significantly. For a more in depth look at the voluntary carbon market, take a look at my 2018 blog post: Thinking about Carbon. You can also check out this excellent post from the University of Kentucky: Carbon Markets 101.

The entrance to Verdant Hollow Farm in Buchanan, MI. This farm has the highest rating for animal welfare approved and is gradually changing over fields once farmed by others as conventional corn and soy to perennial feed crops for grass-fed animal stock and soil-based carbon sequestration. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram at mjohnsonchase.

Some environmentalists doubt the validity and effectiveness of carbon offsets. Because the commercial carbon trade is an emerging market, it's difficult to judge the quality of offset providers and projects. For example, trees don't always live a full life, sequestration projects for long-term containment of emissions sometimes fail to deliver genuine results, and offset companies occasionally deceive their customers with less than transparent measurement practices. Most importantly, voluntary offsets can easily become an excuse for doing the real work to decarbonize our economy. And finally, some environmentalists worry that soil-based carbon sequestration measurement capacities are sill more of an art than a science. Others say that doesn’t matter because it works regardless, and measurement accuracy is a secondary concern. Because we have no time to waste, I lean toward the latter view. Regenerative farming is an important solution for the climate crisis. It improves water quality, soil erosion and microbial health, and reduces reliance on harmful fertilizers, fungicides and pesticides, creating a win-win for both farmers and consumers regardless of the successes of soil-based carbon sequestration. Converting is a smart move for many reasons, not the least of which is lower input costs for fertilizers and chemicals, resulting in increased profits. Perhaps that’s why 92 Senators in our very partisan Congress voted for the new bill.

An 11 acre field planted in a diverse perennial cover crop at Verdant Hollow Farm. On the upper left is an open chicken coop, below is a llama and baby goats. The cover crop is very healthy and the animals appear content. This field is divided into 8 paddocks and animals are regularly moved to fresh fields to allow the previously used field to regenerate, which draws down soil-based carbon. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram at mjohnsonchase.

Happily grazing goats at Verdant Hollow Farm. Photo by Michael Chase. Follow him on Instagram at mjohnsonchase.

The Verdant Hollow farm has received some attention from the press as managers Molly and Brett Muchow pioneer farming and grazing practices that, among other benefits, reverse climate change by rebuilding soil organic matter and restores degraded soil biodiversity. Consequently, Molly and Brett are well situated to take advantage of the USDA’s certified carbon credit program once it is established (assuming the Growing Climate Solutions Act makes it through the House and becomes law). Although Molly and Brett took over management of the farm without a background in conventional agriculture (Brett was a teacher and Molly was a chef in Chicago), they both knew that they wanted to restore the soils, forests, and wetlands at Verdant Hollow. The previous owner of the farm had raised livestock for many years on the property and, at some point, began leasing “tillable” acreage to someone who grew conventional soy and corn, which depleted the soil. After working with a permaculture design team, Molly and Brett realized the best way to create a functional business model that reflected their values and would restore the farm was to utilize multi-species livestock rotation and organically grown flowers and vegetables largely through permaculture methods.

Heather, the Garden Manager at Verdant Hollow Farms stands in front of a very productive hoop house with Brett. When we met her, Heather was filling this wagon with flowers to deliver to local community supported agriculture (CSA ) customers.

Hailey, a farmhand at Verdant Hollow Farms, specializes in livestock management and agroecology.

An interesting feature of the approach at Verdant Hollow is a willingness to experiment. When we first talked with Molly about the general shape of the operation there, it was clear she and Brett were still exploring what kinds of cover crops they wanted for different needs, as well as how to repurpose storage buildings and other out-buildings. Because Michigan winters are long and cold, Molly and Brett wanted to extend their growing season so they had more crops to offer customers. In addition to conventional “hoop houses” which are common in northern climates, they went a step further and constructed a “climate battery” greenhouse to create an indoor forest garden. Brett was kind enough to give us a tour, and we were delighted to see lemon and avocado trees among numerous other warm weather plants.

Following the work of Jerome Osentowski, Brett and Molly have constructed a “climate battery” greenhouse to create an indoor forest garden to extend their growing season. — Following the work of Jerome Osentowski, Brett constructed a “climate battery” greenhouse to create an indoor forest garden.

A Colorado farmer named Jerome Osentowski is the inspiration behind revolutionary greenhouses that use a “climate battery.” This is a subterranean air-circulation system that takes the hot, moist, ambient air from the greenhouse during the day, stores it in the soil, and discharges it at night. Brett and Molly’s version works similarly. They intend to add a wood-fired sauna that will allow warm water to circulate through a wall constructed against a hillside that will increase humidity along with the passive solar and air circulation attributes of the “climate battery.”

Dylan, who works on the Shepler’s Mackinaw Ferry, listens to us bemoan the fact that bicycles are not allowed on the “Big Mac” bridge over the Mackinaw Straits on I-75. Dylan drives the 5 mile span every day to get to his job.

Whether or not the Growing Climate Solutions Act becomes law, it is already evident that the USDA (especially through the Natural Resources Conservation Service), recognizes the very important contribution regenerative agriculture can make. By adopting climate-friendly agricultural practices more widely, agriculture can transition from a greenhouse gas source to a carbon sink. Just as important, soil scientists report that at current rates of soil destruction (i.e. decarbonization, erosion, desertification and chemical pollution), we have about 50 years before we will suffer serious damage to public health due to a qualitatively degraded food supply characterized by diminished nutrition and loss of important trace minerals. Even more frightening is the very real prospect that we will literally no longer have enough arable topsoil to feed ourselves. If we fail to protect and restore the soil on our 4 billion acres of cultivated farmland, 8 billion acres of pastureland, and 10 billion acres of forest land, it will be impossible to feed the world, keep global warming below 2 degrees Celsius, and halt the loss of biodiversity.

The time for change is now, and farmers like Gabe Brown and Molly and Brett Muchow are blazing a trail. There are many more farmers like them, and we hope to feature them in in future blog posts.

Stay vigilant! Thanks for reading. More to come. Follow our next biking trip from mid September to mid October.

All material, unless credited or otherwise noted, are copyrighted property of the blog post author.

Elvis, the manager of the Normandy Motel in St. Ignace on the north side of “Big Mac,” lost his wife right before COVID. He takes great pride in running the motel, computer free. He spends his day doing motel laundry in the garage and hanging out in his worn out easy chair watching NASCAR. Drawing by Jennifer Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram at deeofo.

Michael Johnson-Chase 2/26/20 Michael Johnson-Chase 2/26/20

Louisiana/Texas, Post 4

“I work up at United Ag in El Campo. I live at this hotel. Spend Sundays off in Bay City.” Drawing by Jennifer Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram at deeofo.

“Don’t go around saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first.” — Mark Twain

Most everywhere we’ve been in Louisiana and Texas, we’ve encountered people who believe deeply in the concept of hard work. I don't know if the importance of work is stronger in the south than elsewhere (it’s hard to imagine a more frenetic work environment than New York City), but its virtue came up repeatedly in our conversations with locals. Often the merits of working seem linked to another highly prized value in these parts - self-reliance - the pathway to the most exalted of American values, our freedom.

Big sky country in Texas between Corpus Christi and San Antonio.

One of our first conversations with a local in Louisiana centered around the concept of a strong “work ethic.” The man we were speaking to was a small businessman and boss of six employees. His perspective made a lot of sense. What boss wouldn't want productive workers? He went on to explain he wasn’t a fan of freeloaders - people too lazy to work, who wanted a handout from the government. I’m sure he’d fired his share of poor workers, but when it came to individuals wanting handouts, it seemed more like he was talking about an idea of what people are like than a reality. Maybe others know people who don’t seek the meaning that work brings us (even when they are unemployed or underemployed), but I do not. I can’t help but wonder if that experience is a reflection of my own cultural viewpoint, or an indication of a lack of exposure to reality seen through a cultural and political naivety.

One thing is certain to me: it is fundamentally human to seek meaningful activity. We all must live. And even in an age of extraordinary inequalities in wealth and income, the majority of us still must - and want to - work. So while there may be poor workers, are there really folks out there who think they deserve something for nothing?

“We don’t get many bikes down here— just make sure you walk ‘em onto the ferry”! Drawing by Jennifer Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram at deeofo.

Although southwest Louisiana and southeast Texas are equally flat, the land between Corpus Christi and San Antonio seems especially vast. Perhaps it’s the steady 150 mile rise from the coast to San Antonio (which is 650 feet above sea level). Or perhaps it’s the unrelenting expanse of open, uninterrupted fields. Perhaps it’s the long, straight roads. Whatever the reason, it's BIG.

Taken on Texas State Highway 181 between Corpus Christi and San Antonio. Prior to the invention of barbed wire in the 1870’s, fences couldn't reliably contain cattle.

At the same time, both the land and people between Corpus Christi and San Antonio are hardscrabble. Pickups are normal, sedans are unusual. Regular folks are used to fishing and hunting. Although they don’t rely on their catches to stay alive, fish and animal wildlife seem to be part of the rural Texan diet, at least among the people we talked to. And the land is used in every way possible; for agriculture, farming, fishing, hunting, wind power, oil and gas extraction, compression stations, pipelines, home building, junkyards, storage sheds, telephone poles, auto graveyards, human graveyards… The Texas countryside is a hodgepodge of so many competing uses I often found it as overstimulating and confusing as a Wal-Mart Megastore.

Texans fishing off the causeway between Aransas and Port Aransas, Texas. The birds nearby are Pelicans.

There's also a lot of workers. A surprising number of people work for wind farms and quite a few work in agriculture, but most of the people we met work for oil and gas or petrochemical companies. And there are a lot of companies. Thirty one new petrochemical plants have been approved for construction or reconstruction in hurricane prone areas on, or near, the Louisiana and Texas coasts since 2016. In our last post, we wrote about two large LNG exporting plants under construction in Cameron, Louisiana and nearby Port Arthur, Texas. These are among those 31 new plants.

One of hundreds of refrigerant tank cars lined up near the Occidental Petroleum, Chemours, and Nashtec Plants at Gregory and Ingleside, Texas, not far from the Gulf Coast on the way inland to Beeville, Texas.

Tetrafluorethane is regarded as a “sustainable” refrigerant because it has lower carbon emissions than previous versions, and a minimal impact on ozone.

As much as we were profoundly charmed and cheered by the warmth of the people we met, the omnipresence of these facilities contributed to our uneasiness. In the face of climate change, does this boom really make sense? There’s something profoundly unsettling about the trend. I’m not so sure the locals feel any different. In Texas, even cognitive dissonance is BIG.

Interestingly, Jenny and I arrived in San Antonio on the night of the Nevada Democratic caucus, and we had the opportunity to drop into the famed Cowboy Dance Hall to catch a raucous, youthful and well-supported Bernie Sanders rally. Just for the re… — Interestingly, Jenny and I arrived in San Antonio on the night of the Nevada Democratic caucus, and we had the opportunity to drop into the famed Cowboy Dance Hall to catch a raucous, youthful and well-supported Bernie Sanders rally. Just for the record, we both appreciate Bernie’s concerns about climate change, but worry he is over-focused on what we need to achieve and under-focused on how to do it without causing a destructive backlash.

Northerners may not be aware that Texas is the leading U.S. producer of both crude oil and natural gas. In 2017, the state accounted for 37% of the nation's crude oil production and 24% of its marketed natural gas production. NPR.org reports that Texas currently supports a total of 163 natural gas production plants, and Texas has the largest processing capacity in the U.S. In addition, there are 29 petroleum refineries in Texas that process more than 5.7 million barrels of crude oil per day. These plants account for 31% of the nation's refining capacity.

A hydrogen sulfide (H2S) flare near a gas pad. Flaring burns off gas that is deemed uneconomical to collect and sell. It is common to flare natural gas that contains hydrogen sulfide to convert the highly toxic hydrogen sulfide gas into less toxic c… — A hydrogen sulfide (H2S) flare near a gas pad. Flaring burns off gas that is deemed uneconomical to collect and sell. It is common to flare natural gas that contains hydrogen sulfide to convert the highly toxic hydrogen sulfide gas into less toxic compounds. Although the practice of flaring is decreasing as pipeline efficacy improves, the following air pollutants may be released from natural gas flares: benzene, formaldehyde, polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons (PAHs, including naphthalene), acetaldehyde, acrolein, propylene, toluene, xylenes, ethyl benzene and hexane. Taken from this source.

On our next trip to the southwest, we hope to visit the fast growing, second most productive oil field in the world (as of 2018), located in the Permian Basin in western Texas and New Mexico.

Just above Gregory we encountered a large wind farm on agricultural fields that spanned to the horizon on both sides of the road for almost 8 miles. Later we learned it is run by E.ON Climate and Renewables North America, one of the worlds largest d… — Just above Gregory we encountered a large wind farm on agricultural fields that spanned to the horizon on both sides of the road for almost 8 miles. Later we learned it is run by E.ON Climate and Renewables North America, one of the worlds largest developers, owners, and operators of renewable energy projects. EON owns and operates over 1,900 MW of wind farms in the United States. The wind on these flat plains are intense (we learned that the hard way), and there are quite a few more wind power companies in the area.

Perhaps more surprisingly, Texas leads the nation in wind-powered generation. The state produced one-fourth of all the U.S. wind powered electricity in 2017. Texas wind turbines have produced more electricity than both of the state's nuclear power plants since 2014. And equally interesting, Texas produces more electricity than any other state, generating almost twice as much as Florida, the second-highest electricity-producing state. All combined, Texas is the largest energy-producing state in the country. It’s also the largest energy-consuming state in the nation. In fact, the industrial sector, including its refineries and petrochemical plants, accounts for half of the energy consumed in the state.

Cooling Towers on the Dow Chemical Plant in Freeport, Texas.

Given our lowbrow method of bicycle travel to offbeat roads and towns, we had lots of opportunities to speak with locals. We didn’t meet one person who spoke of his or her job in disparaging terms. We were often met with gratitude for the opportunities that seemed to be available. Truth is, Texas is humming. The unemployment rate is 3.4%, while the national average is 3.6%. Louisiana’s rate is slightly higher at 4.5%, although it was 6% in November of 2016. By most measures in both states, employment is looking up.

“Me?- I’m Norberto. Me an’ my brothers, Ivan and Freddy cook our meals for the week out here. We take our lunches to the plant.” Drawing by Jennifer Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram at deeofo.Norberto and his brothers had traveled from their ho… — “Me?- I’m Norberto. Me an’ my brothers, Ivan and Freddy cook our meals for the week out here. We take our lunches to the plant.” Drawing by Jennifer Hershey. Follow her work on Instagram at deeofo.
Norberto and his brothers had traveled from their home near Brownsville to work at a plant near Kenedy, Texas. There’s a lot of available jobs there. We counted 9 oil and gas plants in this town of 3500 people.

The evening we hung out with Norberto and his brothers, I fell into a conversation with one of their friends, an oil worker named Jose. An Hispanic transplant from Indiana, Jose was happy to be finding so much work in a part of the country that he preferred. He educated me for awhile about H2S flaring and modern pipeline construction methods, which I appreciated. It was comforting to hear the industry was actually trying to lower methane emissions. After a while, I asked him about his politics. Jose was unabashedly straightforward about supporting Trump because Trump supported his industry. I turned the conversation to climate change. He hesitated a bit as I gently expressed my concern about carbon emissions and what might happen to the world my grandchildren will be inheriting. He didn’t have children, so I kept the conversation a few generations out. I could also tell Jose was aware lots of folks felt like I did, and I could feel him becoming defensive. So I changed tack. I told him I didn’t begrudge anyone working in any industry who was trying to achieve his or her fair share of the American Dream.

“I used to be an intelligence analyst for the army in Germany. I moved back here to be close to my military family. I pray everywhere and anywhere because God is always where I’m praying”. Drawing by Jennifer Hershey. Follow her on Instagram at deeo… — “I used to be an intelligence analyst for the army in Germany. I moved back here to be close to my military family. I pray everywhere and anywhere because God is always where I’m praying”. Drawing by Jennifer Hershey. Follow her on Instagram at deeofo.

I remember how isolated veterans felt when they returned from the Vietnam war many years ago. Coming back to a divided country after having served in an unpopular war was a miserable experience for so many veterans, and their shame and degradation cloyed deeply at those of us who opposed the war. Consequently, it was a relief when Americans did not do the same thing to vets when they returned from the second Gulf War - a war equally as unpopular as Vietnam. It seemed that Americans understood had that our vets were not the perpetrators of an unpopular and ill-advised conflict, but were instead brave men and women who had been asked to do something unpopular and counterproductive by their superior officers. In that case, the right people were held accountable for poor choices.

Just as those of us who are deeply worried about the growing climate emergency are realizing that meaningful change has little relevance to the consumer-based choices of the average middle class, we also need to avoid blaming our brothers and sisters who work at low and mid-level technical jobs in an industry that has brought us so much, but is also causing us great damage.

Looking south from the causeway between Aransas and Port Aransas, Texas.

Jobs matter. They are a necessity. At the same time, we need policies that will aggressively curb and eliminate carbon emissions. I've heard conservative Republicans say that it’s not fossil fuels that are the problem, it's emissions. In response, I say …. great! If one really trusts the free market, then put a price on those emissions (and return the proceeds as a dividend to taxpayers to mitigate additional costs), and trust the market to work its magic. And if that intervention doesn’t do the work fast enough (at the rate that science tells us we need) then let’s put our money where our mouth is and trust the market enough to increase the price of carbon until it’s enough. Let’s bring the emissions down! If we can use the market to stimulate innovation that will help us save a lot of our oil and gas jobs, that’s terrific! If not, then let’s accept the truth of our situation and create a different kind of economy.

As one of the people we met kept saying, “I'll tell you what” …Using the ridiculous excuse that the science isn’t settled isn’t acceptable. The science of climate change is as verified and verifiable as the concept of gravity (about 98% of scientists agree both are happening). Climate change isn’t convenient, that’s for sure. But just because we don’t like that it’s happening isn’t a reason for denial. Let’s deal with it.

Yet another Pelican poses for us near Corpus Christi.

This blog post concludes our latest trip from New Orleans to San Antonio. I am writing this on an Amtrak train, with our bikes safely stowed in the baggage car. It’s been an extraordinary trip. If you haven’t visited the 4 missions on the San Antonio River, we enthusiastically recommend them, especially Mission San Juan. A few key pictures from there are posted below.

Below are links to this entire trip. If you don’t have a Garmin account you will have to create one to see them (it's worth it if you're a biking geek or map lover).

1) New Orleans Road Cycling, 2) New Orleans Road Cycling, 3) Donaldsonville Road Cycling, 4) Morgan City Road Cycling, 5) St Mary Parish Road Cycling, 6) Abbeville Road Cycling, 7) Lake Arthur Road Cycling, 8) Cameron Parish Road Cycling, 9) Port Arthur Road Cycling, 10) Galveston Road Cycling, 11) Freeport Road Cycling, 12) Matagorda County Road Cycling, 13) Refugio Road Cycling, 14) Port Aransas Road Cycling, 15) Bee County Road Cycling, 16) Kenedy Road Cycling, 17) Floresville Road Cycling, 18) San Antonio Road Cycling, 19) San Antonio Road Cycling, 20) San Antonio Road Cycling.

Thanks for reading! There’s always more to come, but this particular trip is complete.

All photos, unless credited or otherwise noted, are copyrighted property of the blog post author.

Michael Johnson-Chase 2/12/20 Michael Johnson-Chase 2/12/20

Louisiana/Texas, Post 2

“Yes Ma’am...it’s alive. They be millions of them in pots out there in them rice fields”. Drawing by Jennifer Hershey. Follow her on Instagram at deeofo.

Welcome from Galveston, Texas, where we arrived from Louisiana by way of the coastal towns Cameron, Louisiana, and Port Arthur, Texas. Most of south central and southwestern Louisiana below the I-10 corridor from Houston to New Orleans is less than 20 feet above sea level. On both sides of the Intercoastal Waterway this land of marshy prairies, bayous, forests and intense wetlands supports many wildlife sanctuaries, cattle ranches, sugarcane and rice farms, and crawfish trapping. It was a pleasure to cycle through. People are friendly, and the inland towns are small and attractive.

We had an interesting encounter with a very busy and successful woodworker named Mark near New Iberia, Louisiana, who showed us his shop, and introduced us to some of his workers. After we got settled into a motel in nearby Abbeville, he and his wife Dona picked us up and took us out for a sensational seafood dinner. We enjoyed Louisiana hospitality at its best, with good food and plenty of libation and conversation. Although we could sense we weren’t all likely to be on the same page politically (even though we shared a concern for rising sea level and the fate of the lowlands), a strong and jovial spirit of acceptance and friendship remained intact. Interestingly, the next day Mark read my recent blog post, and texted me “Great post. Observe more, judge less. Good way to live. Just remember, sometimes you have to step up to the plate”. Jenny drew his picture, and I thought about what exactly he meant.

“I got three good sons in laws. I want my family to be healthy. But I worry that the land to the south of here is going to be under water”. Drawing by Jennifer Hershey. Follow her on Instagram at deeofo.

Michael biking through historic Jeanerette, LA.

Jenny with her bike on the way to Lake Arthur, LA.

In addition to their beauty and the warmth of their inhabitants, southern Louisiana and Texas can also be disturbing places to bike through. This bucolic landscape is riddled with debris, machinery, abandoned oil wells and new fracked gas compressor stations. It’s crisscrossed by pipelines carrying oil and gas from conventional wells found underneath the marsh, and an abundance of fracked gas piped in from the north. Much of the fracked gas in western Louisiana originates from the nearby 9000 square mile Haynesville Shale, a large shale play in northwestern Louisiana.

Given the low elevation and the marshy characteristics of the land, it’s obvious that this area is very prone to coastal erosion, storm surges, tidal flooding, and extreme weather events such as hurricanes. A few days earlier, just west of New Orleans, we had contended with tornado warnings, which are quite unusual for the area. Locals agreed, although no one we spoke to suggested a changing climate as a possible cause.

Just south of the Intercoastal Waterway on Highway 24 in southwestern Louisiana. Under these marshes lie a maze of pipelines carrying oil and gas from local deposits and the shale play in northwestern Louisiana.

The sheer vulnerability of the lowland coastal areas of the Gulf Coast seems hauntingly palpable. It’s clear to any thoughtful observer that Louisiana is deeply and complexly affected by our changing climate.

A fishing boat moored near the site of the new LNG global exporting plant at Cameron, LA. The flag on the boat says Trump/Pence 2020 . The entire port area just south of this boat (which used to be public land) is now privately owned by the company … — A fishing boat moored near the site of the new LNG global exporting plant at Cameron, LA. The flag on the boat says Trump/Pence 2020 . The entire port area just south of this boat (which used to be public land) is now privately owned by the company building the incoming plant. We weren’t allowed to see it.

The town of Cameron, LA, (once a bustling resort town of 3000 people that was devastated by Category 3 Hurricane Audrey about 60 years ago, and slammed again by Ike in 2008) now only has a few hundred permanent citizens. However, it is now a site for a large liquified natural gas (LNG) global exploring plant that will compete with an equally large LNG global exporting plant under construction in nearby Port Arthur, Texas. This much larger blue collar town lies just across Louisiana's southwestern border, where the Spindletop gusher was struck in 1901, setting off an oil rush that resulted in nearby Houston eclipsing Galveston as the primary port for southeastern Texas.

Gas flares in the marsh about a mile from the Liousiana Coast.

Each new plant currently employs about 3000 construction workers. When complete, the Cameron plant will support 160 permanent jobs, and the Port Arthur plant will support about 200 permanent jobs. That is, of course, unless a major hurricane hits this part of the Gulf Coast, in which case operations will either be temporarily or permanently interrupted.

Abandoned oil wells in High Island, Texas, about a half mile from the Gulf Coast.

The reasons for this activity make economic sense in the short term. Cameron has been quite poor since Hurricane Audrey hit, and jobs are scarce. Consequently, the new plant is very popular among locals. Port Arthur is also poor, although it has more economic diversity than Cameron. However, the proximity of its site for a new receiving terminal will have additional benefit to Houston, so it’s popularity is even greater. Interestingly, in Houston, there is tacit, if not public, recognition among local officials that climate change is real. Based on a conversation we had with a local in Port Arthur, it seems there is hope that new sea walls east of Port Arthur across the Sabine River and further west across the Houston ship channel will mitigate storm surge issues for awhile, at least for southeastern Texas. …For how long, we wondered?

Jenny’s left arm marks the water line for Hurricane Ike in a bicycle shop we went to in Galveston. This 2008 hurricane holds the record for storm surge in Port Arthur, cresting at 22 feet.

So why do so many people in Louisiana and Texas embrace the very industry that may ultimately do them in? Isn't one definition of insanity, “doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results?”

“I moved one time..in 1954...from next door to here.” Drawing by Jennifer Hershey. Follow her on Instagram at deeofo.

Jobs are important, and 460 permanent jobs might have lasting value for your communities. But at what cost? When your home is losing land to coastal erosion at alarming rates, when scientist are warning us that sea level rise is occurring faster than their previous conservative estimates indicated, when extreme weather events such as hurricanes and tornadoes are becoming more frequent with every passing year, when scientists are looking at establishing a Category 6 for hurricanes because they are growing so much more intense, …..when does that community cut its losses, and change its economic base?

Yes, life will be harder in the short term, but potentially much more livable and rewarding in the long term. Maybe that’s a plate that’s worth stepping up to…

For those of you who geek out on map routes, please email me and I will happily include links to the Garmin maps in this blog post. Frankly, I simply don’t know if they are very important to my readers. If I’m wrong, I’d love to know.

Thanks for reading! More to come…

All photos, unless credited or otherwise noted, are copyrighted property of the blog post author.

Michael Johnson-Chase 2/6/20 Michael Johnson-Chase 2/6/20

Louisiana/Texas, Post 1

“I come after the grande hurricane...10 yrs ago.....from Guatemala . I fish for mi familia every day from aqui.” Drawing by Jennifer Hershey. Follow her on Instagram at deeofo.

The Amtrak Crescent from New York City to New Orleans is a small and somewhat understaffed train. Given their size and cultural stature, it seems like the Big Apple and the Big Easy deserve something more robust, if not all of America. Train travel is low carbon, pleasant, and offers so many other benefits to our transportation system. Apparently few people train between these cities (at least in the dead space of early February before Mardi Gras), so the train not only was small (9 cars total), it was challenging in its lack of basic amenities. Dining cars have been replaced by a limited option of previously prepared food that wears quite thin after a few meals. Bathrooms are few and poorly cleaned. There was no observation car. Yet - as always - I was appreciative of Amtrak’s efficient and inexpensive roll-on bike service. It is both easy and a joy to use. You roll your bike to a baggage car, remove your gear, and hand over your bike to an attendant. When you arrive at your destination, you do the same thing in reverse. Retrieving your bike takes minutes, and after restoring your gear, off you ride.

Jenny Hershey with her gear standing beside our bikes as we board in NYC.

I don't always make New Year’s resolutions, but this year I did: “Observe more, judge less”. It was simple once I said it out loud, although I had been struggling to articulate the thought to myself for quite a while. In addition to an unusual bout of self-reflection inspired by the quick and successive deaths of both my parents, I’d been reading the fascinating book “Why We Are Polarized” by Ezra Klein; a look behind the extreme politicized polarization plaguing America.

The Cathedral in Jackson Square, New Orleans, LA

I was coming to understand that just as we hide parts of ourselves from those we love, we are hidden from one another in a country we love, partly because we assume others should see the world as we do even if we cannot see the same world they do. I had been unsettled by several attacks on FaceBook about my apparent ignorance of the South based on a few inquisitive posts about life in North Carolina. Out of defensiveness, I found myself questioning how much conservative southerners understand, or care to understand, about my identity as a multicultural urban northern liberal. Conversely, I was forced to admit to myself that I knew, or cared, equally little about the identity of white rural southern conservatives.

Oil plant just northeast of NOLA on the Mississippi River.

In anticipation of this trip, both my traveling partner Jenny and I felt trepidation about biking in the Deep South. I hoped Klein’s book would help me frame an approach that would go beyond my own self-perceived static and somewhat predictable liberal perspective. It has not disappointed me.

Just east of NOLA off the Mississippi River levee. Quite alive.

I admit that we partly chose to explore Louisiana and Texas on bikes because it is a warm place to go in early February. In addition, it is accessible by train (we thought other choices would be more carbon intensive, and low carbon travel is part of our objective). But our country's current form of political polarization also begs for greater interaction between our vastly different political cultures. Interestingly, as a northerner, I often feel greater affinity with European countries and cultures than I do with the political and social cultures of the American south. But since the 2016 election, I’ve come to believe that America is in need of a giant reset (or “rebooting”) and that if I - and other people like me (i.e., members of my group) - don’t grapple with our entire American identity, we are very likely to misunderstand how we arrived at, and might get out of, such a highly polarized present moment.

My interest in climate change is a case in point. There’s so much about our changing climate that seems obvious to me that I simply cannot fathom the abyss in logic or understanding between me and climate deniers. While I’m very confident the science supports me, I’m learning that facts alone don’t change behavior. Even in an area devastated by Hurricane Katrina, and after numerous recent warnings that the sea level is especially troublesome on the Gulf Coast, plenty of locals remain willfully cavalier, if not downright defiant about taking action.

“I was 13....they took us out by boat. I slept on a bridge for a week with my Grandma. “ Drawing by Jennifer Hershey. Follow her on Instagram at deeofo.

Ezra Klein makes the same argument about rationalizing, or recasting, facts within political cultures. Essentially, his fundamental point is that identity is a far more important driver of political viewpoints than is logic or “facts”. In fact, logic may be the least important attribute of political identity - far less important than cultural, familial, socioeconomic and racial identity. I’m reminded of James Carville’s famous quip during the Clinton administration, “it’s the economy, stupid”. Maybe in the age of Trump, “it’s the tribe, stupid”.

A petrochemical plant just outside the bayou town of Donaldsville, LA.

Stupid, perhaps, but true nonetheless. And so very, very human. So, I’ve decided - and Jenny agrees - that the most useful way to explore Louisiana and Texas right now is to observe more, and judge less. For readers who hope we will brightly burn the climate emergency torch with the message that the apocalypse is well upon us and our southern neighbors need to wake up lest they suffer sooner than their northern neighbors (even though we think that’s true), we may disappoint you. Our agenda right now is simply to understand.

“Yes Ma’am...they got all kinds of plants here. Chemicals and oil and I don’t even know what they got. “ Drawing by Jennifer Hershey. Follow her on Instagram at deeofo.

Maybe a lot of folks just don’t believe that good jobs from a “green economy” will really show up when chemicals and oil companies have been the only big games in town for multiple generations. Or maybe they just don't feel like they can change anything anyway.

Bayou Country about 150 miles southwest of New Orleans.

We talked to a middle aged black man in White Castle, Louisiana, named Orville outside the local grocery store, who told us he had voted for Obama but didn't vote in 2016, and was probably not going to vote in the next election also, even though he thinks Trump is a crook. When we asked him why, he went silent. So we (thoughtful northerners that we are) explained “logically” why he should - since the federal voting power for a Democrat in Louisiana is arithmetically more powerful, given the Senate and the Electoral College, than a vote by a Democrat in New York. Orville looked dubious and replied, “them politician’s all gonna do what they want to anyway.” Jenny and I exchanged glances. We had failed to convince him. So, as we mounted our bikes and road off, Jenny yelled back at Orville, “If you don’t vote in the next election, I’ll come back here and kick your ass”! Orville laughed. Maybe he’ll remember that part of our conversation more then our logic.

Tractor in a fallow sugar cane field near Baldwin , LA. Photo by Jennifer Hershey.

Maybe Orville is right. Yet, Congressional behavior during the impeachment proceedings teaches us that politicians will do just about anything they think the majority of their constituents want them to (with a few exceptions). And maybe that’s a good thing, especially if we want them to do what’s right. But more agreement on what “right” looks like among us constituents would be very helpful, especially when the prevailing view seems so very wrong. And how will we achieve that? I used to think I knew. Now I no longer do… so for myself, I'm trying out the follow idea: Observe more, judge less. And please know, dear reader, it's myself that I am encouraging.

For those of you who geek out on map routes, here are the last four days of our rides on Garmin: Day One, Day Two, Day Three, Day Four.

Thanks for reading! More to come…

All photos, unless credited or otherwise noted, are copyrighted property of the blog post author.

Michael Johnson-Chase 10/19/19 Michael Johnson-Chase 10/19/19

Illinois to New York City, Post 2

Remains of a home in Brookfield, Ohio, in a populated suburb after a tornado touched down in June of 2019. When we saw it, nearby homes were fine and people were going about their business.

This house is on Main Street in Cambridge City, Indiana. It was intact until July of this year, when it collapsed. A local resident we talked to didn’t know why.

Hello from South Pittsburgh on the historic GAP (Greater Allegheny Passage) Trail. We biked here yesterday from Steubenville, Ohio, an old steel and coal town about 25 miles north of historic Wheeling, West Virginia. The night before we were near Morristown, Ohio, in the rolling western foothills of the Alleghenys.

Both yesterday and today we encountered numerous hills, a few with grades as steep as 15 degrees. But what goes up also comes down, so we enjoyed some great downhill runs. Although it’s grey and rainy today, the past few days have been sunny and warm, and the hill country has been spectacular.

The Cardinal Operating Company, a plant north of Wheeling where coal is made into coke for steel manufacturing. In the 1990’s there were over 100,000 jobs in the steel industry in this valley; now there are about 10,000 jobs.

After some reflection, Jenny and I decided to take the historic GAP bike trail from Pittsburgh, PA to Cumberland, MD, and then a portion of the C&O (Chesapeake and Ohio) Trail before heading up to Lancaster, PA, on our way back to New York City. Today we are resting and waiting out a rainstorm near the western end of the trail. We chose this alternate route instead of the northern ACA Route to NYC because it is less climbing (by about 20,000 cumulative feet)! I’ve done this route before, and remember it very fondly, so I'm looking forward to sharing it with Jenny. We have currently traveled over 800 miles total, and tomorrow we will start the 150 miles that make up the GAP trail.

This memorial is for 16-year -old Olivia Starrwallace, who ran off the road and into a tree in eastern Indiana while driving near the National High School (which she attended).

Jenny’s drawing of our bartender Dennis at the Pike 40 Bar and Grill in Morristown , Ohio. You can see more of Jennifer Hershey's work on Instagram at “deeofo”.

While such a distance is not new for me, I must compliment my biking partner Jenny. She’s never biked this far, and she has done so with great joy and resolve. She’s tackled intense hills, aggressive and threatening traffic, poor road surfaces, lousy and non-existent shoulders, cold and rain - all without losing her cool or diminishing her spirit.

Locals tell us we’re in Trump country, and we’ve definitely seen a few 2020 campaign signs. The TV is on in our motel. It’s hard to imagine the nation isn’t focused entirely on the impeachment investigation and the Turkish invasion of Syria. But frankly, those issues are not the topic of conversation in most of the places we’ve visited. The Americans we are encountering seem more focused on the basic logistics of making their daily lives work.

Earlier today I found myself wondering what the connection to the outside world was like in small midwestern communities during WWII? Was our nation so focused on winning the war and supporting our troops that you could feel history being made even in the smallest of towns? Did the overwhelming majority of citizens feel like their daily actions were contributing to the creation of a better world?

Some new driving jobs have been created in the Ohio River Valley in the last decade as fracking has expanded. That said, isn’t all traffic (except for electric vehicles powered by renewables) essentially “oil and gas traffic”?

Or did life in rural America then seem more like now, when the unrelenting noise of the outside world seems so far away? Perhaps those who had a close relative involved in the war effort felt involved, much like farm families further to the west might feel more concerned about climate change now, after experiencing several very tough years of extreme weather. Yet, I don’t know how to reconcile the sense of urgent hopefulness I felt last month in New York City as I participated in the Youth Climate March, attended numerous panels at the ever busier annual Climate Week, and followed the extraordinary appearances of Greta Thunberg at the United Nations Climate Summit. It all seemed so significant, and a signal of shifting perspectives.

But in the Ohio River Valley, there’s still plenty of pain (and anger) over decades of economic losses. Worrying about climate change almost seems like a luxury… until one thinks soberingly about an even harsher future. So, as always, lets keep our resolve to change our trajectory. The future is waiting to be invented.

A bridge to another bike path near OSU in Columbus, Ohio.

Speaking of a bright side, we have encountered many long, beautiful and very well maintained cycling trails. About 20 miles west of Dayton, Ohio, we picked up a rural “Rail to Trail” cycling trail, and with a few exceptions of unfinished sections, followed the trail until we left Columbus, about 90 miles later.

The Olentangy River Trail makes its way through much of Columbus, including this lovely park.

This was a remarkable and incredibly pleasant run. We encountered another long section of cycling trail later the same day from Granville past Newark, Ohio, making our total run on trails well over 120 miles. Then, we enjoyed another 20 miles of trail along the scenic Ohio River out of Wheeling, West Virginia, as we headed north to Steubenville, Ohio.

Finally, we rode the Panhandle Trail most of the way into Pittsburgh, capping off a series of great trails through much of central and eastern Ohio.

So we are happy and content, and looking forward to another stretch of dry weather once the current storm passes over. The GAP trail awaits!

Thanks for reading! More to come…

All photos, unless credited or otherwise noted, are copyrighted property of the blog post author.

Michael Johnson-Chase 10/14/19 Michael Johnson-Chase 10/14/19

Illinois to New York City, Post 1

Soybeans wait for harvesting in Greenfield, Indiana.

Back in the Saddle Again

Greetings from my bicycle! My last blog post was in May, and I apologize to readers who may be curious about my disappearance in rough weather somewhere near Westgate, NV, on a cycling trip from Palo Alto to Salt Lake City.

If you’ve been wondering, you might be pleased to know that I did get back home to New York City. In fact, I spent a great summer there. While there, I wrote a blog about how I got home: backtracking to Reno, skipping my plans for Salt Lake, shipping my bike and flying back to New York City. But alas, I got distracted and never posted it. So much for the best laid plans of mice and men (and me).

Even so, I took a few more photographs in Nevada in May that I think are still worth sharing, even if the trip back to New York no longer seems relevant. I include these because I am fascinated by extreme weather events. They are increasingly part of our lives, and I think there is value in bearing witness to what we see around us. You may remember from my last blog that I was fighting my way through a very unusual rain and snow storm in a part of Nevada that is usually hot and dry in May. Along with many other folks I was surprised and challenged by the inclement weather I encountered. Below are a few more shots from that trip that I’m particularly proud of…

Water in the Westgate Bar parking lot on the day I left in late May, 2019.

As the summer progressed, I made plans for future cycling with my friend Jenny Hershey, who had just retired from a 31-year career running building operations for Jujamcyn Theaters on Broadway. A founder of the Broadway Green Alliance, Jenny is both an environmentalist and an avid cyclist. To get our feet wet, we took a car camping/cycling starter trip to New Brunswick, the fabulous Cabot Trail in Cape Breton in Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island (PEI), and explored traveling together on bikes for multiple days at a time. If you’ve never been there, I strongly recommend cycling in PEI. There are numerous rail to trail conversions that allow cyclists to get everywhere one could want to go. The shoreline is vast and beaches are beautiful. The islanders take great pride in their environment, and they enjoy rich local culture. Prices are reasonable, and the pace of life is remarkably comfortable. At the same time, internet services and other modern amenities are easy to come by. Don’t miss it!

Jenny by the roadside in PEI. She is wearing a mourners ribbon signifying the period of shiva after the death of her mother Merle Weisman.

Michael gesturing toward the Northumberland Straight in Cape Breton.

Near our campground in Chetticamp, Nova Scotia.

Moving On

In addition to being busy, last summer was emotionally eventful. In June and July, as my brothers and I recovered from my Dad’s recent death, we helped our Mom move from an assisted living facility to a nursing home in Galesburg, IL. She didn’t like losing her independence, but is gradually getting used to both the irritation and value of full-time long- term care. Like most older people, my Mom has good days and bad days. A good day occurred recently when Jenny and I arrived via train to meet up with my daughter Saren and her family from Wausau, Wisconsin. My Mom was able to meet her new great grandson Landon.

My Mom Sue Chase and her great grandson Landon Spire.

As I joyfully watched my Mom, my daughter and her son, I realized there were four generations of us in the same room sharing our love. And of course, I found myself wondering what life will be like for Landon when he is my Mom’s age (it will be 2106). Will civilization as we presently know it even exist? Will animal species other than humans and their pets and feedstock still exist? Or will our species be gone as well?

There is increasing scientific evidence that we are quickly running out of time, and we must significantly turn the tide on greenhouse gas emissions over the next decade. I am so pleased that all the Democratic candidates for President are acknowledging climate change as an existential threat, and are developing policy proposals for meaningful change. Personally, I cannot think of a more important way to address our climate emergency right now than to back whatever Democratic candidate is nominated, and to work my heart out for his or her election. And if we are lucky enough to have an administration that understands climate science, then we must put our shoulders to the wheel for national policy that supports carbon pricing and returns dividends to citizens to help bear the increased costs of fossil fuels. We will also need policies to help build the next great economic expansion in renewable energy, carbon sequestration through changing agriculture practices, and carbon technologies to include air-based and flu-based greenhouse gas capture and carbon recycling through manufacturing of inert products such as polymers, fuel and even food. These nascent, yet promising technologies are very hopeful. We only need the will to make them happen. For more information check out the Circular Carbon Network.

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Today I'm writing from a motel in Richmond, Indiana. Jenny and I began this cycling trip about a week ago from Galesburg, Illinois. As I’m sure you are aware, the fall has been unusually hot in the Midwest and the northeast. That changed suddenly last Friday, just as we left Bloomington, Illinois, for Gibson City (with the help of a local Samaritan who drove us 37 miles in his pickup to avoid rain as the temperature plunged to the high 30’s). The next day was even more inclement. By Saturday evening, after Jenny and I had biked 72 miles to Attica, Indiana, we were very cold, wet, miserable and tired.

But the joy of biking is often in the recovery phase. The last two days have been lovely, and today was exceptional. Our trip has become glorious again. Galesburg is about 400 miles west of us at this point. We’re tired and windblown, and enjoying the pleasant and peaceful endorphin rush that comes after several days of hard cycling. It’s nice to feel used up.

The rainy view outside our motel in Gibson City, IL.

Fossil fuels are like this as well! We enjoy now, our grandchildren pay later….

Thanks for reading! More to come…

All photos, unless credited or otherwise noted, are copyrighted property of the blog post author.

Michael Johnson-Chase 3/21/19 Michael Johnson-Chase 3/21/19

Phoenix to El Paso, ...no, Tucson, Post 3

Twilight behind a sugaro cactus in Tucson.

After a one day layover in Portal, AZ, where I hiked near Cave Creek Canyon, I woke to a very cold day. The wind was clocking about 24 miles an hour out of the southeast, so I decided to head northeast to Silver City, NM, thinking that I would then zag southeast the next day to Columbus NM, and then make my way eastward into El Paso.

The Chiricahua Mountains on the way to Lordsburg.

Life has a funny way of making us change our plans. The wind shifted to the east. Rain clouds gathered. The temperature dropped. After a very difficult slog of a ride directly into a punishing wind, I arrived in Lordsburg about 45 miles away from Silver City. I wasn't sure what the weather was up to, but I was worried. I found an inexpensive motel and downloaded another wind app for my cell phone, hoping it would give me better capacity to analyze and predict what the next few days were going to be like. I knew there was a raging storm in the Midwest (the Nebraska bomb cyclone) and I assumed its outer edges were the cause of the wind and cold weather coming out of Texas. So I sat in my motel room, finally warm again, thinking about what to do. Near as I could determine the winds were going to remain out of the east/southeast at approximately 15 mph for the next 4-5 days. Additionally, rain and some snow were forecast for the entire region for the next few days. I knew I could make it to El Paso one way or the other as planned, and I also knew the trip was likely to be difficult and miserable.

The wind stirs up dust on the way to Lordsburg.

I called my Dad in California, and my Mom in Illinois. I also called my kids. That might seem like a strange comment coming from a grown man in his 60's, But for those of you tracking older parents and grandkids, you'll recognize the behavior. I wanted to be certain my eastward direction under such conditions didn't make it difficult to get to either parent should the need arise. And I wanted to know if changing my itinerary and visiting my kids and grandkids a month or so later than previously planned would be ok.

I was improvising based on weather, just as humans have done for thousands of years. That is, before we insulated ourselves from it through our technology. Yet, our very attempts to tame it have only made it more foreboding. As the recent bomb cyclone in Nebraska - and the even more devastating cyclone in southeastern Africa - remind us, the weather will always humble us. We can't defy physics.

After discussions with various family members, I decided to return to Tucson where the weather was milder, and catch a train up to San Jose to my Dad's place. Right now I'm sitting in a lovely Landmarked train station in Tucson. I travel tonight on the Sunset Limited and will arrive into LA the morning in time to catch the Coast Starlight up to San Jose tomorrow. As usual, I will roll my bike up to the baggage car. For only $20 more a ticket there's no better way to get a bicycle somewhere (other than riding it, of course).

One of my intentions, for now, is to avoid an effigy in my honor. I came across this one on "A" Mountain east of Tucson.

The new plan made me breathe easier, and sleep a bit more deeply. That said, I'm sorry to have missed exploring route 9 and the towns of Columbus, NM, where Pancho Via "invaded" the US at the battle of Columbus in 1917, and Antelope Wells, NM - which I am told is a hot spot for Border Patrol action. I'll be back.

The border near Nogales, AZ. Photo credited to USA Today.

I can't say that I've seen much near the border that suggests we have a crisis of "invasion". Where I've been it seems quiet, "normal" and only subtly militarized. As per the pictures I've already posted, the fences are ugly and the concertina wire is threatening. I've been reading an interesting book titled "Storming the Wall; Climate Change, Migration and Homeland Security" by Todd Martin. If the numbers of illegal immigrants on our southern border are actually increasing (recent reports suggest that is true) they are mostly immigrants from Guatemala, El Salvadore and Honduras. And, according to Todd Martin, these countries are experiencing devastating drought, and are climate refugee "canaries in the mine" for what lies ahead.

Apparently, migrants from these countries turn themselves into Border Patrol at their soonest opportunity with the intention of applying for asylum. Most are farmers who are no longer able to survive on their land. If they flee to nearby cities, they and their families are subject to horrific gang violence. So they come north, hoping they can gain asylum in the United States. If there is a crisis, it's a humanitarian one, and one that a wall might even exacerbate. Here's an article in "Scientific American" that explains the underlying issue more deeply.

One of hundreds of checkpoints on a north/south road just south of Interstate 10. They are intended to keep migrants from gaining access to our interstate system. I've passed through several. Each time I've asked the agents if it was busy that day, … — One of hundreds of checkpoints on a north/south road just south of Interstate 10. They are intended to keep migrants from gaining access to our interstate system. I've passed through several. Each time I've asked the agents if it was busy that day, and each time the answer was no.

Fields of daisies are common here this time of year.

A view to the south about 50 miles east of Tucson.

A rattlesnake seen on a bike trail near Tucson. As it gets hotter, they get more active.

Next week I fly back to New York. It will be another month or so before I start my next cycling adventure, so you'll notice a lag in my blog posts. But, as always, there's more to come.

All photos, unless credited or otherwise noted, are copyrighted property of the blog post author.

“History is a relentless master. It has no present, only the past rushing into the future. To try to hold fast is to be swept aside.”

John F. Kennedy

The Trip

The Context

Newfoundland and Labrador

Foresight

Epilogue

“We pretty much own rural and small town America.”

Mitch McConnell

“When it comes down to it, doomsday attitudes are often no better than denial.”

Hannah Ritchie, from Not the End of the World; How We Can Be the First Generation to Build a Sustainable Planet

“Put simply, there are many reasons to fear … fear.”

Christopher Bader, from Fear Itself; the Causes and Consequences of Fear in America

Carbonstories