The idea came to me sometime around mid-November ... the idea to bicycle to Seattle, one of my favorite places on earth, but which I've only visited a couple of times. Why bicycle? Because I love to bicycle, and because I need this challenge, both as a cleansing of mind and spirit, and as a physical challenge to assess what age 60 means to me.
One appeal of the plan is that nothing is definite except the starting date. And should May 1 arrive and be stormy, then even that could change. But here is the plan as far as I know it now: I leave May 1 from Grand Rapids and ride to Muskegon, there to board the ferry to Milwaukee. By late in the day on May 1, I will have completed the first leg of my journey. From Milwaukee, I plan to ride pretty much straight across Wisconsin to Rochester, MN, where lives Charron McLeod whom I met at the Primal Conference in Mexico 2 years ago. Charron has canine companions that I want to meet, and it will be nice to see her again.
From Rochester, I ride north to Stillwater, MN, where I pick up the Northern Tier route. I follow the Northern Tier maps (from Adventure Cycling) across northern Minnesota and North Dakota, and about half of Montana, before bearing south to meet up with the Lewis & Clark route. I really look forward to visiting Missoula, home of Adventure Cycling, before continuing on a more southerly route that loops through Idaho, a corner of Oregon, and into Washington. My "cousins" (for lack of wanting to explain the relationship) has offered to come out into or past the Cascades to get me when I get close, and I'm not proud. I'll probably take them up on it. But then again, maybe I'll enjoy the ride so much that I'll just keep riding and turn up at their door.
Here are the preparations I've already made for the trip: had clip-style pedals put on the bike and purchased the shoes to go with them; got a Y membership and started training (once I couldn't ride on the roads anymore); began purging unnecessary items from my house, although the really big purge didn't take place until about two weeks ago. As I write, most of my possessions are in the living room, piled on bookcases and tables for possible sale or distribution. I thought they would stay through the weekend, but since the realtor is coming Sunday for me to sign on with her and she wants to take pictures, I'm hauling most of it out tomorrow. Every bag that leaves lifts my energy and my spirits a little more. It's amazing how much stuff a person can accumulate.
I've also purchased a few bike items for the trip, including the necessary maps from Adventure Cycling. I still need a rearview mirror, visibility flags, a pair of long pants for riding, and most likely a trailer. If I can find someone to drive SAG, I won't buy the trailer, but I'm proceeding with my planning as though I will be going alone, because so far no one has stepped up to say, "I'll go!" I'll also need an extremely lightweight (and, therefore, expensive) tent, sleeping bag, and sleeping pad in case I end up someplace without a hotel. I'll know more about daily goals and making reservations when I get done with the house purge and have time to look at the maps more closely.
That brings us to today, February 25. On Tuesday, the 23rd, I bicycled to GVSU Allendale for work, and back again. This was a beneficial exercise because I spent 2 hours "at rest" between the rides, thus making the return trip more difficult than the initial one. I have read articles and blogs by touring cyclists who say not to leave the bike and sit elsewhere until one is done riding for the day, and I understand why. Once the body completely stops, it doesn't want to get going again. This happened on my trip to Kalamazoo a few days before Christmas. I thought it would be a great idea to stop for lunch and take a break in Wayland, about halfway down. Big mistake! I never felt as comfortable riding the rest of the way. My mind kept giving me things like, "I'm cold. I'm tired. I can't make it." As the sun started to go down, my spirits plummeted. I texted my sister-in-law and said, "How would you feel about taking a break to come out and get me?" I was about 9 miles from my destination.
But lesson #2 came out of that: just knowing that someone was on the way to get me gave me new energy. Here's the important lesson going forward: if I end up traveling alone, I'll need to have a 'touch base' time where I actually talk to someone I love at the end of the day. I'll be blogging of course, but I'll need to hear someone's voice and know that, wherever I am and wherever I'm bound, someone cares about me in the world (besides Remy).
