I suppose this story needs an ending.
I have been home for 2 months now. I thought that if I put off writing this last post I could effectively keep my trip from really being over, but I guess not. It was worth the try, though.
When we left Tampa, after another long stop over, Brittany and I were both slow to get into a rhythm. Having broken my sunglasses and my camera, I was already somewhat morally defeated. Add to that some unseasonable 90 degree weather and oranges, oranges everywhere but not a one to eat and I decided I was ready to come home.
I had recently finished a book that made an impression me: Travels with Charley by John Steinbeck. Steinbeck has always been one of my favorites, so I went with Ross' recommendation to read the author's memoirs of his cross country camper trip with his dog, Charley. He went to many of the same places that I had been over the past 5 months, encountered many of the same problems. It was a really great book and I recommend it for anyone, especially someone who has or plans on traveling in the US.
Towards the end of his book, Steinbeck talks about how "you don't take a trip, a trip takes you." Any number of people could visit some National Park and every one of them will have a different experience. And, because its the trip thats in control and not really you, it can be tough when it decides to end itself. Steinbeck said he woke up one day in Virginia and felt that he was no longer traveling or exploring or adventuring. He was stuck. In a strange place he didn't know. 500 miles from home. He went to sleep one day and woke up the next and the trip was done with him. There was nothing he could do about it.
He also reflected on how, at a certain point, you stop seeing things, noticing the beauty. Eventually you will find yourself merely going through the motions. No matter how impressive the scenery or how peaceful the night is, a finished traveler cannot appreciate the things that made the trip worth taking in the first place.
As I biked through south Florida, I felt all of these things. I was going through motions, biking 50 miles a day because it was expected of me. Brit had been done for a while; she kept biking for me, I think. When we took lunch one day, it was 95 degrees and we were on a straight road with no end in sight, and nothing but industrial orange groves as far as we could see. I was done. Right then and there I knew it. For the rest of the day's ride, I did a combination of convincing myself it was OK, getting rid of the pride that stopped me from saying so, and figuring out how to tell Brit.
When we got to the next town, we stopped at a McDonalds and bought train tickets for the next day. It was that easy. We biked some more into the town of Sebring where we stumbled upon some kind people generous enough to give us a roof over our heads for our last night. A warm meal, good friends, a fluffy dog and homegrown grapefruit is really the only way to end a really long bike trip.
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When I got home, I found a note I had written to myself before I left. Three questions: Did you have fun? Did you learn something? Was it worth it? Yes. Yes. And yes.
Looking back, I can say that I have never done anything more fun. Riding bikes has always been one of my favorite things to do. Riding bikes everyday for 5 months was that much more special. Between the people I met and the places I saw, it will be hard for me to top the fun list for a while.
I learned a whole lot, too. I learned how to read a map. I learned how to get lost with grace. I learned how to feed yourself on $2 a day. I learned how to pack, how to talk, how to be silent, how to listen, how to think. I think I even learned how to bike better. I feel like I learned how to be a different kind of Chris Childers; one that is different from what I had been in the past but one that is still true and still me.
I find myself saying constantly "one thing I learned from my trip is...." There are a lot of lessons that I learned that I try to remind myself of often. Perhaps one of the most powerful ideas has to do with what everyday life means to a person. In my 5 months on the road, I woke up to a different place almost every day. I woke up in places where many people live and in places where nobody lives and everywhere in between. I thought that the place in which you live and the character of that place must surely have a profound effect on how you think and feel and live your life.
There is a town in west Texas called Terlingua. It lies in the shadow of the Chisos mountains on the edge of Big Bend National Park. The hundred or so people that live there all know each other and they all know when someone new is in town. In the last 2 years, they've gotten about 2 inches of rain. What must it be like to wake up to this everyday? How would it affect your worldview?
There is another place where the sheer marble cliffs tower 4000 feet above the ground and some people look at that every morning. Theres another place that gets to 130 degrees in the summer and people live like that too. There is a place where the trees are older than our history, literally bigger than life. How different would you be if you woke up every morning and saw a 2000 year old tree?
Life is beautiful, where ever you go. With novelty, it can be easier to notice, but it always is; it never just isn't. And its not just about the scenery, either. I thought this trip would be all about the scenery, but the people that you meet and surround yourself with are perhaps more important. They are a reflection how how we see the world, what we choose to take from it. The people we find ourselves with and the places we find ourselves in define our world on the most personal level.
We owe it to ourselves and each other and the rest of the living and non-living world to find the beauty and the happiness that is ever present around us. Its there right now, being beautiful and happy and waiting for us. If you need to take a bike trip to see it, well, there could be worse things.
Was it worth it? Yes. I made incredible new friends, solidified bonds with old friends, and saw this country in a way that very few people have ever gotten to see it. The hills were steep, and the heat and the cold were tough and the days exhausting, but there is no cliche strong enough to convey how worthwhile it was.
This will be my last post. I want to thank again all the people that helped me along the way. There are too many to name. You know who you are and you know what you mean to travelers like me. Thank you.
Total Miles: 6,515
Total Days: 162, Sept 8 2011- Feb 16 2012
Average miles per day: 40
States: 11, OR, CA, NV, AZ, UT, NM, TX, LA, MS, AL, FL
WarmShower/CouchSurfing Nights: 53
Camping Nights: 70
Slept Outside/Slept Inside: 42%/58%
National Parks: 17, Oregon Dunes, Redwood, Yosemite, Death Valley, Red Rock, Lake Mead, Zion, Grand Staircase, Lake Powell, Glen Canyon, Grand Canyon, Saguaro, White Sands, Carlsbad Caverns, Guadalupe Mountains, Big Bend
Repairs: New hub bearings and races in Mammoth Lakes, CA; broken spoke in Kanab, UT; flat tire in Van Horn, TX, flat tire in Port Arthur, TX
I hope with this blog that I was able to entertain, inspire or at least provide an outlet to someone's boredom. If nothing else, go ride your bike.
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