Bike Trip anniversary

One year ago I returned from an amazing journey.

Over the past year there have been many times when I went back in memory to those six weeks spent on my bike. I think of how excited I was everytime I had an email from a friend, or a comment on my blog. I think of how calming it was to repeat the pedal strokes for miles and miles and miles. During the winter I thought of the ocean, and the sun that found me when I crossed the Golden Gate Bridge and rode through the Presidio into San Francisco. I thought of sitting in the sand resting my knees. Now I think of the nights spent in my single tent, reading a book by Lance Armstrong with my headlamp before falling asleep at 9 pm. I think of the smooth pavement I was always hoping for, and the feeling I had at the end of each day when I would say to myself "you did it." Each day, I did it! I accomplished my goal!

Often I tell people about my trip, to me it is the most significant recent experience I've had in my life, and maybe my greatest accomplishment to date. But I don't know what to tell people other than the logisitical details. Yes, I rode from Seattle to LA, yes I went by myself. No, I never got one flat tire, no I never felt unsafe or lonely. Yes I would do it again, but have no plans to in the near future. What I can't explain outloud is what that trip did for me in my life. And maybe because it has taken a year to realize, and I'm still trying to figure it out. I can say that when I am sitting at my desk working I can think about the first hostel I stayed in, and how I felt like sleeping in a bed on the first night was cheating, but totally worth it. I can say that I thought that I would deal with my issues (come on, we ALL have issues) while riding everyday with nothing to do but think. But in the end, I found myself only thinking "this road is smooth," or "this hill is long, get over it!" or (mostly) "watch out for glass or nail or rocks or debris in the road - don't roll over it!" Because when I found myself with myself, and everything else melted away, I was a happy camper.