The change in terrain from the Rockies to the Plains happened so quickly. Kansas has given us a chance to catch up on the change. We’ve ridden through farms, ranches and small towns for most of the last three days.

It is harvest time in southwestern Kansas, and much of the work in modern harvesting is done by contractors who travel from town to town. We have shared the road the last couple of days with all kinds of large farm equipment (and even let them block the wind for us a couple of times).

With plenty of time of ponder as we’ve made our way down the road through the Plains, I’ve returned over and over to the same questions. How is it that so much food is produced here in the United States, and some are hungry? Where are the riches in these towns that provide such an invaluable resource to humanity? Who does all of the work to turn these fields into edibles?

At home in San Francisco, we live a block from a number of public housing units. Our neighborhood is without grocery stores, but there are numerous “convenience” stores. My wife has done a great deal of research on nutrition in low-income communities, and we often have talked about how difficult it is to eat healthily in our neighborhood. These stores provide important services in our community, but they also are part of a complicated system that contributes to keeping many of the poor in our neighborhood from living fuller and healthier lives. This week, I’ve been wondering about the journey that this wheat takes from Kansas to the shelves of the stores in the Western Addition in San Francisco.

Our trip is nearly half over, and here are a few reflections from one person about our first month:

We arise in the dark to hit the road (and many of us nap like champions in the afternoon).
We miss out on birthdays, anniversaries, funerals and celebrations at home.
We eat lunch at 9:30 AM.
We are served (and saved) by the immense generosity of strangers.
We argue over chores.
We take turns breaking through the wind for one another.
We live for simple joys, like tailwinds and downhill days.
We tentatively share with one another our lives from “the real world.”
We have so much to learn about poverty, and the people who live here.

Chad Evans

Thanks to St. Theresa parish in Dighton for their generous hospitality!