Like most things in life, the emotions I’ve felt on the bike are so much more powerful in the moments I’m feeling them, than in the memories I have of them. Especially the negative ones; those rose-colored glasses are so easy to put on. I remember a lot of this morning’s bike ride to be unpleasant. My body wasn’t ready to ride after a night camping, and I underestimated the difficulty of the ride, since we only had 38 miles to go today. I didn’t eat much for breakfast, didn’t stretch, and started the day mentally counting down the miles remaining. Not the best mindset. The wind was whipping at us from the side, causing my front tire to jolt in and out of the lane, like it was doing the salsa. The last 3 miles were spent on a gravel road that rattled my core and left me cursing any town that leaves roads unpaved. It wasn’t just unpleasant; there were times where I was thinking, this sucks, when is this going to end? In those moments I responded to myself with, just keep pedaling, just keep pedaling.
Yet here I am, 12 hours later, lying in a soft bed, in a warm house, with food in my stomach, and having showered twice, and if you asked me if I was ready to get back on the bike again, I wouldn’t hesitate to say yes. That mental anguish I was feeling earlier has completely evaporated, as the pain of today’s ride fades and only the joys of being on a bike remain.
A lot of that has to do with our living quarters; we are staying with Greg and Shanna in a lovely home here in Norwalk, IA, just south of downtown Des Moines. Greg picked us up in Prairie City, took us to get some Thai food, then brought us to the grocery store so we could grab more trail mix and bars. They had plans tonight, so they left us the house and took off, leaving behind their babies for us to look after. Their babies, meaning their two dogs, Desi, and Mira, the first a stunning black lab, and the second a 100 lb, 6 month old Great Dane. Maddie and I grilled some salmon, cleaned up the bikes, and hung out.
At one point Shanna mentioned that the trip sounded like Type 2 fun: it’s miserable in the moment, but fun looking back on it. I replied that it was something like Type 1.5 fun. Half the time we’re having a blast, and the other half of the time is a grind. Those nitty gritty miles that make up the middle of a daily ride, once the thrill of starting the ride has worn off, and there’s not yet enough light at the end of the tunnel for hope to propel you forward, those miles can be a real grind. But again, we continue to pedal, and by the end of the day we always look back and say “hey, that wasn’t so bad. Let’s do it again tomorrow.”
From here on out we know very few people the rest of the way to Seattle. That is extremely intimidating; it’s been a huge mental relief to know we have a place to stay somewhere in the next week throughout the beginning of our journey. Now, we could feasibly go 2 or 3 weeks without staying in a home. We’re going to take an extra day here to scope out some of our options going forward and finalize our route.
4 weeks down, plenty more to go. We’re really getting a hang of this bike touring thing. But of course, whenever we think we’ve got it all figured out, nature likes to deliver a reality check. The halfway point is within reach. For now, we’re just going to keep pedaling.
Charlie