WORLDFIRE - Chapter 21, Part I
Shaping the State of the Union
“The future does not belong to those who are content with today, apathetic toward common problems and their fellow man alike, timid and fearful in the face of bold projects and new ideas. Rather, it will belong to those who can blend passion, reason and courage in a personal commitment to the ideals of American society.” Robert F. Kennedy (1925-1968)
Negotiating the final mile of the suddenly narrow towpath into Georgetown, I made my reluctant reemergence into civilization, pedaling to a nearby hotel for a much-needed shower, shave, and some rest. As a reminder that I was not in Kansas anymore, the hotel staff sternly refused to allow the rocket trike into the building, let alone into my room, leaving me with no alternative but to lock it to a post outside unattended overnight where it could easily be stolen. One of the first things I did after getting settled in was to email Deputy Jason Dexter back in Indiana to let him know I had arrived safe and sound: “I made it. Finally arrived in Washington, D.C. today. Been an amazing journey, most of all the people I met along [the] way. Have told many people about your extraordinary kindness, which I will never forget.”
With my budget at this point nearly depleted, and no bandwidth to organize a DC arrival event, I opted for a press release instead and spent the next day in my hotel room finalizing the release and making calls inviting reporters to the ride finale at the Jefferson Memorial. The following morning, the release went out touting the nearly unanimous bipartisan support I had discovered for the green energy moon shot goal. The press release led to an interview with Sirius XM Radio, an ABC News story in Manhattan, Kansas called, “Rocket Trike Has Landed,” and a call from NBC Universal to schedule a future video shoot in DC.
Meeting me at the hotel the next morning was my longtime friend, Scott Sokol, who drove down from Baltimore to help me document the ride finale. Scott blocked for me with his car the final three miles of busy streets from the hotel to the Jefferson Memorial. Had the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial been completed, I might have ended my ride there. I ended it where I did because I long to see our nation realize her unfulfilled potential as a beacon of freedom for all. I long to realize the promise of an unfinished dream called America. In 1776, Thomas Jefferson penned these immortal words declaring our independence from the tyranny of King George III:
“The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States… these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States… all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved... with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.”
While not planned, it felt fitting for the ride to end on December 7, the 69th anniversary of the bombing of Pearl Harbor, for this is the tragic event that pushed America into World War II, unified a nation, and helped produce the Greatest Generation. We are now experiencing climate disasters as deadly as Pearl Harbor, yet national unity evades us. A green American dream is within our grasp if we will but put aside partisanship, unite, and fight for it. But we must refuse to allow ourselves to be divided. It is time for a new generation of planetary patriots to declare our independence from the tyranny of the fossil fuel industry. Today’s perilous times call for fearless founders of a safe, just, and Earth-honoring social order who will pledge their lives, fortunes, and sacred honor to posterity.
When Scott and I arrived at the memorial, chill winds blowing off the Tidal Basin were making an already cold wintry afternoon even colder–too blustery for most tourists–but a news stringer for three local television networks braved the cold to shoot some video footage. Scott then filmed me rolling up to the memorial. After climbing out of the trike for the last time, portending what unbeknownst to me was yet to come, I said to the camera, “The journey is finally over 2,500 miles later,” before asking “or has it just begun?”
Scott then trailed me in the fading light to the home of filmmakers Alice and Lincoln Day, who had kindly offered their DuPont Circle guest apartment as my DC landing pad. Scott and I later celebrated with dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant, Famous Luigi’s. Sitting at a red-and-white-checkered tabletop with a glass of ruby red wine in my hand, it really hit me for the first time that I had accomplished what I had set out to do. I had pedaled all the way to Washington, DC. It felt bittersweet knowing the ride was over, but for the first time in months, I had the luxury of time to reflect. I was no longer moving towards. I had arrived.
Scott and I toasted to the success of a mission accomplished. Yet something told me the journey had only just begun. For months, I had been tracking the winds of change blowing across America. It was now time to see what could be stirred up in the nation’s capital. I know from experience that little in Washington, DC happens quickly. If you want to make an impact, you have to stick around and avail yourself of opportunities as they arise. So I decided to stick around, and true to the serendipitous nature of my journey to DC, those opportunities would present themselves in DC in the most unexpected ways.
It turns out my online petition never went viral. I had ended up collecting most of the signatures the old-fashioned way, through one-on-one conversations on Main Streets that usually ended with me handing out my business card and asking people to go to my website and sign the petition. All told, nearly 600 people did. But 600 signatures won’t get you invited in for tea with the President and the First Lady, so I faxed the online petition with all its signatures to the White House instead. For good measure, I pedaled over to the office of the White House Council on Environmental Quality to hand-deliver them a copy, before dropping off more copies at the offices of the Senate Majority Leader, Senate Minority Leader, Speaker of the House, and House Minority Leader. I was politely received at each of these offices, but the muted reaction to the green energy moon shot goal by Capitol Hill staffers made DC feel not just like a different country, but a different world from the one I had just spent ten weeks pedaling through. I might just as well have been a man on the Moon.
I was received quite differently by my congressman (now governor), Jared Polis (D-CO), who surprised me by securing permission from the Sergeant-at-Arms to allow my vehicle into the Cannon House Office Building. After being swept by a bomb-sniffing dog at one security gate, and being inspected again at a loading dock, I squeezed the trike into a freight elevator and rode it up to Rep. Polis’ office. When Jared first saw it, he excitedly asked if he could sit in it. Then he asked if he could take it for a spin. And that is how the rocket trike came to be ridden through the halls of Congress. Jared did a loop around the building first, then not wanting to miss the chance, I followed suit. The smooth marble floors of the House office building felt like riding on glass. With all the fun and games behind us, we got down to the serious business of discussing the need for congressional support for a U.S.-led green energy moon shot. When Jared had to excuse himself to speak on the House floor, I continued the meeting with his interested Environmental Legislative Aide until we were interrupted by a gun threat lock-down (a false alarm), so we promised to stay in touch. But that afternoon, Jared’s office did issue a supportive statement to the press: “Our nation has a serious addiction to fossil fuels,” Polis said, “and it’s going to take innovative initiatives like Tom’s ride to break the habit and turn our country around.”
Shortly after my DC arrival, I also paid a visit to futurist Lester Brown, who is among those I admire the most in this world. Lester, who had pioneered the concept of a wartime climate mobilization through his many books, had asked me to brief his staff on what I had discovered on my 2,500-mile journey through the heartland. Les was also the first person to urge me to write about my experience. I was surprised when at the end of that briefing, he told me I needed to write a book, but I quickly put it out of my mind. I would not seriously consider his exhortation until years later, but it was my friend’s unflagging faith in me that ultimately gave me the confidence to see the writing project through. What gave me the resolve to keep working on version after version, after being rejected by publisher after publisher, year after year, was a simmering sense of panic.
Another friend put me in touch with the producer of internationally syndicated talk show host Thom Hartmann’s television show, The Big Picture, which led to an invitation to appear on the show. During a 6-minute on-air interview in their DC studio, Thom and I talked about the need for a U.S.-led green industrial revolution. Here are some excerpts:
Thom: “Why do you think there’s so little public demand for renewable energy in the United States when Germany, for example, at least every third house, last time I was there just a year ago, at least every third house as I traveled across the country had solar panels on the roof?”
Tom: “In Germany, there’s government support for renewables… Germany gets it. And the American people, they want it, Thom, and I found that on my ride… And this surprised me a little bit; I thought I would find a lot of support for the 100% renewables by 2020 goal that I was advocating. I didn’t think I would find near unanimous support, and that is what I found.”
Thom: “It seems to me like local community solar, and individual home solar independence, should be like the highest priority, rather than, say well, let’s wait to see until we figure out how the next Enron can come along and make a buck on it.”
Tom: “I think we need both. Given the severity of the climate crisis, I think we need industrial scale solar and wind development in this country, because I mean we’ve got to get this done. We’ve got to get it done fast... But I agree with you. I think where we want to end up is with as much distributed generation as possible, because that democratizes energy production. I mean Americans should be earning money from the energy we generate from our rooftops, right? Why can’t we earn money and sell back to the utilities? Flip the tables.”
Just as I was getting warmed up, the interview was over. Six minutes talking with Thom felt more like two. Part of the time flying was no doubt due to the pleasure of engaging with such a bright and thoughtful television host. It felt more like discussing important matters in my living room with a friend than being on TV.
Requests for public talks kept me busy during my time in DC, but even with all of those, the Hartmann interview, and the meeting with my congressman, I had not pedaled all the way from Colorado to just leave things at that. More had to be done to get our message through. I just wasn’t sure what that more was yet. All I knew is I was not yet ready to leave DC. So I packed up my saddlebags, and after thanking my new friends for the extended stay on DuPont Circle, pedaled across town to the Capitol Hill row house of a longtime friend, where I hoped the rest would make itself clear. I spent many an hour working at her dining room table pondering how to break through the DC media barrier. Without any organizational muscle behind me, or paid media help, I needed a creative hook to pique the interest of media outlets. From where I was sitting, no ideas were too outlandish for consideration.
Just ask business tycoon Richard Branson. Seen by many as “the undisputed king” of the publicity stunt, Branson has gone to great lengths to promote his Virgin Group brand, including driving an amphibious car across the English Channel; attempting an around-the-world hot air balloon ride; driving a Sherman tank through Times Square; and donning an astronaut suit (years before he actually flew into space). The billionaire once even wore a wedding dress to draw attention to his brand. For whatever else we may differ on, as an entrepreneur at heart myself, I respect Branson’s marketing prowess. One afternoon, during a brainstorm session on the phone with my friend Paul, he half-jokingly suggested I show up outside the White House in an astronaut suit of my own to drive home my mission’s moon shot theme. After first laughing off the idea, I slowly started warming to it, going so far as to find a space suit online with the official NASA logo. Then the question became whether to go with the NASA replica helmet or not? Survival pack or not? By the time I began pricing out astronaut boots and gloves, the idea had fortunately collapsed from its own silly weight. I may have the heart of an entrepreneur, but I am no Richard Branson.
NOTE: The written form of WORLDFIRE is the authoritative version. Any inadvertent errors in transcribing the recordings are mine and mine alone.