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August 25, 2000/24 Av 5760, Vol. 52, No.50
Jews pedal cross-country for environmental awareness
JULIE WIENER
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 Cyclists, standing left to right, are: Donna Frankel, Tova Saul, Jo Sassienie, Mike Gross, Nigel Savage and Ilan Glazer. Seated left to right, are: Daniel Morris, Elly Oberstein, Cecily Marbach and Nicole Schuller. Photo courtesy of Hazon |
Unlike the "Survivor" crew, the participants in the first-ever Cross-USA Jewish Environmental Bike Ride aren't fretting over rat-eating: After all, rats aren't kosher and, anyway, most of the cyclists are vegetarians.
Wearing bright yellow biking jerseys emblazoned with1970s purple lettering, this small band of American and British Jews - ranging in age from 20 to 40-something - has been slowly making its way from Seattle to Washington, D.C.
The riders are accompanied by an old van cluttered to capacity with camping gear and bike equipment. But wedged among the other supplies are a few tattered prayer books, velvet bags containing prayer shawls and two large boxes stuffed with tomes on Judaism and environmentalism.
The 10 or so riders have stopped at traditional biking destinations such as Yellowstone National Park, but they have also visited a kosher slaughterhouse in Iowa and led Shabbat morning services in a South Dakota town.
During the course of two months, the bikers have pedaled through the rural Northwest, national parks, affluent suburbs, the gleaming skyline of Chicago and the heavy industry of western Indiana.
The trip is the brainchild of Nigel Savage, a London native in his 30s who several years ago gave up a banking career to study at a yeshiva in Jerusalem. More recently, he became what he calls an "environmental ba'al teshuva," using the term for Jews who become more religiously observant to describe his newfound passion for protecting the earth.
Last year, Savage moved to New York and founded Hazon, Hebrew for "vision," an organization he describes as a "venture capital house" for innovative Jewish projects. The first such project is the bike trip. It was created partially to raise money, with each cyclist soliciting $3,600 - a dollar for each mile - in pledges for Jewish environmental groups.
Mostly, the ride aims to raise awareness among the cyclists and the many people they meet along the way.
"One of the chords we've really struck is that at some level American Jews are underchallenged," said Savage from his cell phone while stopped in rural Indiana.
The cyclists are religiously diverse, ranging from staunchly secular to fervently Orthodox. None are veteran bikers.
"Most of us were very out of shape when we got here," said Ilan Glazer.
A Hollywood casting executive could easily reduce the group to stock characters.
There's Savage, an eccentric and highly energetic sort who seems to thrive on leading group meetings.
Then there's Jo Sassienie, Savage's British girlfriend, and Daniel Morris, the group's Don Juan, adding females to his e-mail address book at every stop.
Elly Oberstein and Cecily Marbach, both in their early 20s and raised modern Orthodox, are the quiet ones, who read poetry to each other at night before retreating to their respective sleeping bags.
Glazer is an undergraduate at the Conservative movement's Jewish Theological Seminary and - at 20 - the group's baby.
Dan Furmansky, a 26-year-old free-lance writer and nutrition zealot, soured on his Conservative upbringing when, as a college student, he realized he was gay.
Tova Saul - who works as a tour guide and is passionate about environmental issues - wears a long skirt even when biking. A former social worker, the American-born Saul became deeply religious almost 20 years ago when she moved to Israel.
Janice Simsohn is the 20-something intern coordinating the trip logistics and Nicole Schuller, a 25-year-old who just completed a master's degree in Jewish communal service, had been planning to drive across the country until she found out about the trip.
Differing levels of religious observance has fueled tensions at times and defeated some riders' hopes that the group could all pray together or even share blessings before meals. But just as big a culprit in conflicts are more mundane issues, like the challenge of fitting belongings into the van.
Nonetheless, the cyclists were still enthusiastic by the time they reached Chicago, speaking highly of the group, the learning and the exhilaration of meeting a physical challenge.
"We're like a little mishpochah," said Furmansky, using the Yiddish word for family.
Drawing on Jewish texts that call for people to respect Earth as God's creation, the riders agree that environmentalism needs to play a more central role in Jewish life.
Environmentalism, said Glazer, "brings people together and shows that despite all our differences we can be a religious community."
The trip is part-yeshiva, part-Outward Bound. The cyclists take turns leading discussions on the Jewish and environmental books on board while they're camping or over Shabbat.
"Reading the books is part of your job, it's a priority that's just as important as cooking dinner or packing the van," said Marbach.
In major cities, cyclists have spoken at synagogues and coordinated programming - such as environmental fairs and community "fun rides" - with local Jews.
In Aberdeen, S.D., the cyclists helped form a minyan, enabling the local congregation to hold Saturday morning services for the first time in years.
Janet Tatz, of Helena, Mont. - 85 miles from the nearest synagogue - hosted the cyclists at a potluck dinner and Torah discussion attended by members of the city's tiny Jewish community, as well as non-Jews interested in the environment and biking.
"The Hazon riders send me e-mail, and I send it out to the people who were here, so it's kind of this expanding community," said Tatz, adding that their visit was "a shot in the arm of Judaism."
Bea Premack, of Aberdeen, S.D., hosted the cyclists with her husband, Herschel. "It gave us a renewed connection with the worldwide Jewish community," she said.