How To Move The Stars is the day by day retelling of a bicycle ride around the world. Start from the beginning to get the whole story.
My adventure was a modern day epic, a solo, self-supported bicycle ride spanning 38,000 miles across six continents. There were moments I barely survived, and times I cried tears of joy, but mostly, this is a story about the thousands of people I met along the way. I moved through their cultures, and dramatic landscapes. I ate their food and slept on their land. I was constantly arriving to the open arms of strangers who were excited to help me achieve a feat that few could imagine. I did this for years, immersing myself in the world and meeting the people who live here. The story I returned with is a snapshot of humanity, captured in a lived experience. Thank you for joining me on my journey.
Purchase Jacob’s art inspired by his bicycle tour, including the world’s most beautiful Ant Farm. www.AntLife.space
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May 22nd, 2013. The Black Sea. Eugene picked us up this morning to take us on a tour from Sylvest to where we would be staying in Crimea’s southern coast. Our first stop along the way was at a World War II battlefield in the memorial for the defense of Sylvestole. There were artillery pieces on display, still pointing away from the city and trenches dug into the hillsides. Trees grow there now, but at the time of the war, they would have all been blown to pieces. The battle took place from October 1941 to July 1942. Sylvesta was surrounded and placed under siege by the access powers. All of Crimea had already been overrun. The city was the last hold out. Over 200,000 Soviet Union soldiers perished trying to defend the land. The Germans pummeled the area with so much artillery and bombing that in the end there were only 11 buildings left undamaged in a place where 110,000 people lived before the war. Such a waste. I think of those citizens, the happy plans they had for their lives. How angry they must have been to have everything taken from them. We continued following the coast. Striking white stone spires pierced the forested hillsides to tower hundreds of feet over the landscape. Stopping at the base, I saw climbing routes bolted up the rock walls. Katie and I climbed a lot together. She would lead and I would follow. I still think of myself as a rock climber, though out here on my bike, I’m losing finger strength by the day. Once at the hotel, my parents and I took a walk to the beach. We found a stretch of white gravel between a few large boulders and a barrier constructed of tetropods taller than me. An abandoned oil rig sat offshore with a bit of a lean, seemingly on the way to collapsing into the sea. Two middle-aged women laid on beach towels. Separate from them, another woman, much younger and more traditionally attractive, stood in the water up to her butt, striking sexy poses in a skimpy swimsuit. while a 5-year-old boy, I assume her son, took pictures with a digital camera. A strange scene, but for Ukraine, what she was doing was completely normal. [Music]