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THE NUMBER ONE
HERMIT IN THE WORLD Shall I, like a hermit, dwell On a rock or in a cell? Sir Walter Ralegh (1552 - 1618) A dozen years ago, during the Summer of 1993, I began the next adventure tour called American Summits, which was to place a full scale mountain bike atop the highest natural point in each of the 50 united States. One of my continued sponsors from the Great Wall of China tour was Bell helmets, which provided the touring van that would be my home for six months out of the year, traveling to the 48 Continental US. Part of the deal was that there would be no other sponsor’s logos on the highly decorated and very visible vehicle, with it’s big, bold white lettering against a red backdrop (Bell actually spent hundreds of thousands of marketing and research dollars to discover the right color combination that would be visible not only to the public, but to the media as well. White lettering against a red backdrop catches the public’s eye more so than any other color combo, and it looks great in black and white photos for the newspapers. The lettering on this van could be seen half a mile away) that read... BELL... The Number 1 Helmet in the World! And every time I see that van parked off to the side of the garage, I’m reminded of the hiker I came upon on the trail that lead to Wyoming’s highpoint in the Wind River Range, Gannett Peak. After four grueling days getting the bike to the summit of that 13,000+ peak, I was heading out of the area, on my way to another monster Western highpoint, when I came upon this gentleman and his group. A furry individual with a bushy gray beard, he was the spitting image of what a mountain man would look like to an east coast ghetto boy like me. As soon as he saw me trudging along with a bike on my back, his eyes lit up as we approached one another on the thin strip of packed earth among the lush vegetation, and he exclaimed, You must be the one with that fancy van in the parking lot at the beginning of the trail? When I acknowledged that I was, he laughed and sputtered, For the last two days, I couldn’t figure out why you had such a sign on your vehicle, until my friends told me I had read it wrong...the word was helmet, not hermit. To this day I still question if perhaps that old mountain man did indeed read it right; that perhaps I really was the Number One Hermit in the World. These thoughts have been sounding more loudly than ever in the last few months, as I slowly make my way out of retirement and back into the public arena. It’s been seven years since I decided to give both my bike and body a rest, and 20 years since I last did any acting; the last job being one of the lead characters in a play about Vietnam that ended it’s run on Broadway. After recently listening to Jane Fonda come out of retirement after 15 years with both a book and a feature film, I could relate to her double whammy with my own. She seemed to be doing fine with the gap, like...riding a bike again. And so, I hoped, it would be with me as well. The first test came on Saturday, May 21st with a book signing for the debut of Cycling Castro’s Country: The Tour de Cuba at the largest bike shop in the largest town nearest (40miles away) me. The press was notified; radio announcements were created and played the entire week leading up to the event, and it was back to giving interviews to the newspapers and local TV stations. I felt a bit rusty with the reporters; not up to par from the image I had created during the 90s, but otherwise, it all seemed to go well, and just in case the day was going to be a flop, I made sure I had another personal appearance the following Saturday to do a book signing at one of the largest and leading bike shops in the area. This way, I couldn’t back down. The inevitable day arrived and Captain America, in all his red, white and blue glory, showed up just early enough to set up, which was a good thing, because there were people already waiting, not only to meet me, but to see the $20,000 bike that rode across Cuba as well as get a glimpse of an authentic brick from the Great Wall, as well as some memorabilia from the America Summits tour. For the three hours I was there, I never had a chance to rest (let alone keep quiet), and I know I would’ve been there longer, except the shop was closing up so the boys could enjoy their Saturday night, but for those three eventful hours, it was a pretty heady experience; one that would make any self respecting hermit want to retreat back to his cave (or in my case, the ranch in the mountains). Actually, I was both grateful and thankful to God that it was busy, because it made the time fly by. I’d have died of dread (and most certainly boredom) if no one showed up. Then I’d have to take a serious look at myself and conceded that perhaps I had lost the magnetism; the drawing power I’ve always had with a crowd. Thus, I felt somewhat better going into the following Saturday’s book signing event at a massive 26,000 square foot sporting goods store with some 6,000 of those square feet devoted just to cycling. Again, my fears were subsided as it was just as busy; my three hour timetable running over an additional two hours, only leaving because the store was ready to close. It seems safe to say that the number one hermit in the world is about to die, as he makes his way back into the world and the waiting spotlight, and I’m looking forward to the change. During the Summer there are more scheduled book signings throughout California; a chance to meet more of the public and grow in confidence as I prepare for the ultimate meet and greet... the premiere of my first feature film, Yesterday’s Dreams. That event, in and of itself, scares me more than hauling a bike in minus 40 degrees below zero up a monster mountain. Would this way of thinking be considered making a mountain out of a mole hill? At the worst, the hermit can always re-emerge and retain his number one spot in the world... Until Next Month, Kevin |
