There are no Whole Foods stores on the Navajo Reservation.
There are no Whole Foods stores in Buffalo, Wyoming.
In fact, there are no Whole Foods stores in the entire state of Wyoming.
Nor are there any Whole Foods stores in Mississippi, West Virginia, or the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.
Former Trading Post at Coyote Canyon
Image - Johnnygunn
This begs the famous question – Why?
One of the many benefits of bicycle touring is having the opportunity to see places and experience small communities in a way that is simply impossible for the automobile traveler. In 2005, I toured from Half Moon Bay to Santa Fe to Jasper National Park to the San Juan Islands. A few miles – kilometers for our Canadian friends – a few observations.
On this trip, I stopped for dinner supplies at the trading post at Pueblo Pintado in New Mexico. Pueblo Pintado is like many chapter houses in Navajo country – a scattering of small houses, mobile homes, and traditional hogans with a general store at the intersection. I’m guessing that they sell mostly gas and cigarettes – even though the nearest real grocery store is an hour’s drive away – three hours on a bicycle with a tailwind. In the vegetable cooler there were, perhaps, three apples, a lemon, a couple of carrots and potatoes, a wilted head of iceberg lettuce. In the meat cooler there were a few gallons of milk with a WIC sign overhead plus a couple of packages of cold cuts.
I purchased some milk and cookies – plus a package of cheap bologna for the dogs. Anyone who has been on the reservation is aware that stray dogs are everywhere – usually congregating at trading posts for food and garbage. I went around to the back of the store to get out of the wind that had been such a boost to my cycling speed and ate my cookies. Only a few dogs bothered to follow me. They were the lucky ones – since I don’t like bologna.
Hogan and Horses near Pueblo Pintado
Image - Johnnygunn
The next day, as I was heading from Torreon to Cuba, I saw a lot of people hitch-hiking. It was the first of the month – folks had just received their meager assistance checks. Either they didn’t have a car – or didn’t have the money for gasoline. It was late morning and already hot. I stopped to share my Oreos and chilled water with two older guys. We had a nice break together – sharing a few things about ourselves and our journeys. As soon as I got back on the road, a pick-up stopped for them and we all smiled and waved.
Two days later – I found myself in Santa Fe. My sister picked me up in Abiquiu and dashed back to town since she was having a big dinner party that evening. We stopped at the Whole Foods store. The parking lot was filled with recent-model cars of the better sort. In fact, it was difficult finding a parking place. There were no pick-up trucks with four people in front and another three or four in the back to my recollection. There were also no stray dogs knocking over the garbage cans.
Once inside, I had culture shock having spent the past week in Navajo and Hopi country. In Hopi land, the only grocery store has gone out of business. I remember looking in the dusty windows at what remained – empty shelves with a few cans and boxes scattered about. A Hopi woman came up next to me and looked in the window, too. She said, "Look at all of that good stuff in there!"
At the Whole Foods in Santa Fe, the first thing I noticed was the olive bar. A dozen different varieties of olives – each bin filled to overflowing. At the fish department, you could get fresh tilapia, Louisiana crawfish, or North Atlantic lobster. Every fruit and vegetable in all of their varieties was available in the produce department – and if you were in too much of a rush to peel your carrots, you could load up at a salad bar with more than fifty choices.
Santa Fe is an extremely affluent enclave in one of the poorest states in the U.S. Much has been written and said about the Anglo/Hispanic divide. Native peoples can be overlooked in the dichotomous debate. But it is not just New Mexico. Santa Fe offers a dramatic comparison that is less evident elsewhere. I have also bicycled the backroads of Mississippi, West Virginia, and the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. And I live in Wyoming.
There are reasons why there are no Whole Foods stores in any of these places – reasons that go beyond population and sales volumes. For years, I have tried to tell fellow touring cyclists to refrain from commenting about the prices when buying groceries at small rural stores. Urbanites who are accustomed to buying groceries at megastores think that they are being ripped off in small-town groceries when they pay 50% more for the same item. They do not realize that the small store may have a smaller profit margin even with the higher prices and that the store provides a crucial local retail service.
In addition, urban cyclists often bring their dietary preferences with them. In New Mexico as well as most other places without Whole Foods stores, people have far smaller incomes with which to purchase food. It is no accident that at a rural store - whether in Pueblo Pintado or Panther, West Virginia – you are likely to find bulk hamburger patties and potatoes in the freezer section, but not fresh salmon or artichokes. Fat and starch calories are cheapest.
For me, the Whole Foods debate underscores a more fundamental issue in America – one that is in parallel with health care. Not only are there two Americas with respect to access to health care, there are also two Americas with regards to access to a complete and healthy diet. That is a progressive concern for me.
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Link to touring journal -
http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/...