A great writer came down to ride with us last January. Here’s what he wrote:
“Kipchoge Spencer was somewhere in Mexico, and so was I. We had that going for us. But other than knowing that Spencer and his rock band, the Ginger Ninjas, were riding bicycles across the state of Jalisco, I was clueless, and attempts to learn more—text messages sent, blogs scrutinized, a publicist interrogated by cell phone—hadn’t produced any concrete leads. I hired a taxi in Guadalajara. The driver took me four hours west to the town of Mascota. No Ninjas. I reached for my phone once again and then had a better idea: rolling down the taxi window, I waved to a passerby. “¿Visto usted los gringos en bicicletas?” I asked. “Si,” he responded, pointing straight ahead. Two minutes later I was shaking hands with Spencer.”
Read the rest of the article at Stanford Magazine.