Preparations roll on ...

For all those who have been concerned about my undertaking this journey alone, never fear. On Monday, I announced to the ballet class at GVSU that I was looking for someone who would like to drive veeerrrryy slowly to Seattle over the months of May and June. I told the students that I would pay for lodging, 2 meals a day, and for the person to return to GR or go wherever s/he wanted to in the continental US once the trip was completed. One student came up and recommended another, not currently in that class. I contacted her, and the synchronicity couldn't be more perfect. Tayler Tucker is graduating at the end of April. She has had plans to move to Seattle, but she didn't know exactly when or how. She'll take some well-earned time off from the day to day hassles of life, drive SAG for me, and then stay in Seattle when we arrive. And my friends and family will rest easier, knowing that there is someone within 60 miles of me who can come and help if needed.

The other issue, of course, has been selling my house. My realtor convinced me to drop the price from $118,900 to $109,900 after almost 3 weeks with many showings but no bites. A few days ago, as I sat on the back steps waiting for Remy to pee in the backyard, a neighborhood couple, who had looked at the house when it was still For Sale by Owner, came strolling up the alley. They said they were still interested in the house and asked to come inside. I showed them around again, and we talked about what kinds of renovations would make it work better for them. They returned the next day with their realtor and renovator, and yesterday I got an offer from them. It was quite a bit lower than what I was asking, so I countered, and they have accepted my counter-offer! There is still a ways to go -- inspections, assessment/appraisal, etc, and then paperwork -- but I feel they are the ones who belong in this house. I like it that they have been living in an apartment in the neighborhood and so know the value of living in Midtown. And if they can do all the changes they're talking about, and the home values in the area keep going up, they're going to end up with something really great!

I told a friend yesterday that I would have to be out at close, but I didn't think it was a problem. My realtor told me I'd  have about four days' notice of when the closing was going to be. Yes, I can get the rest of what's hear taken care of in four days. There's just not much furniture left, and by the time I take Abby's tubs of memorabilia to her, there won't be a lot left. And some of the items that are still here are spoken for.

Every now and then, usually when returning from a dog walk and seeing the house across the park, I wonder how it will feel not to be home at this house anymore. It would be easy to grab onto that feeling and say, "I've changed my mind. I'm staying." I still have work here. I have many friends and a great alternative health system here. But it's time to go, at least for a while. I know this. I have known it and resisted it for some time.

I make new lists every day, it seems. I have lists of things I still have to do, like cancel services and talk to the County Clerk about how/where I will vote in November if I don't have an address. I need to talk with someone about what to do with the proceeds from the house. And I have lists of things to go to Abby, things to go to Annie, what I  need to take with me in the car, and what I need to carry on the bike.

Now, I need to ride. Every day. More and more every day. It's still a challenge between working and weather, but now that the house is essentially sold, I don't have to spend as much time worrying about eliminating every little speck of dust. And the weather is improving, so the thought of spending an afternoon out in the air is much more appealing. In fact, I hope to ride to a 9:00 a.m. rehearsal in Jenison tomorrow. It's about 15 miles, so I'll have to leave by 7:15, just to play it safe. On some weekend soon I hope to ride to Kalamazoo on a Saturday and back on Sunday, and then take a long afternoon ride on Monday, just to see how my stamina is for consecutive days of riding. One weekend, I will drive to Ithaca, though, so that will mean very little riding that weekend.

I figure even if I don't get as much training in as I hope, I can "train" on the beginning of the journey. There are no deadlines. If I can only go 30 or 40 miles per day in the beginning and then ramp up, that's the way of it.

I sit in some of my work situations with my mind far away on the road, anxious to be away from the same ol' same ol'. In other places, I'm still happy to interact with my colleagues. Every change is like this -- I've never known a situation of major change where I wasn't pulled in two directions. But I still know, very clearly, that this is what I must do. As I've told my children (and other people's children), there are very few choices one makes in life that cannot be reversed. I can always come back. Or not.

... and the weeks fly by

Third pre-ride post: preparations continue. This week, I ordered Remy's Emotional Support Dog vest and bought a flag for my bike, to which I sewed rainbow flag streamers. I hope it doesn't tag me in the upper mountain states as someone who deserves to be hassled. The intent is quite the opposite. But either way, it feels like the right thing to do, so I've done it.

And that seems to be true of a lot of things these days. I'm functioning at what might seem to some to be a non-rational level. I would call it "following that still small voice." I often find myself second guessing that still small voice, because what it's telling me is so not what most people would do; but then I remember that doesn't matter. That inner knowing has never let me down, and the rational, "what if" has often.

I am likely not going to get nearly as much for my house as I had hoped. The location isn't good enough to make up for it lacking a garage and only having one bathroom, apparently. Still, there will be plenty. I will just have to be a bit more frugal about where I stay on my travels in order to have some left to invest in another house, should I choose to do that, when my trip is done. I may consult a retirement investment person, in order to make the best choices about what will be the largest sum of money I've ever had.

I still don't know for sure if I have SAG (support and gear) for the trip. I will make the journey, either way, but I hope to know soon so that I can plan accordingly. Some differences in planning: with SAG, I can take a cooler for food, more clothes, a book or two, my usual CPAP machine (rather than a smaller, lighter one); and I will have a person built into the trip with home I can connect at least twice a day. Without SAG, I will pull a trailer, pack much lighter, and have to set up evening phone calls or text or FB conversations to have something social with loved ones to look forward at the end of the day -- something I've discovered will help me psychologically. Also, if someone will drive my car as my SAG person, then I'll have my car when I get to Seattle, and I can continue down the coast or wherever I wish. If I go alone, I'll need to return to Michigan to get my car, unless I want to continue riding further around the country. Another thought is to sell the car here and buy another one when I get to my destination.

The Spoke Folks (Jay) offered a basic bike maintenance class on Wednesday evening, which I took. There was only one other student in the class, which made it possible for us both to get all our questions answered. I (finally!) learned how to adjust my brakes, change a tire (properly), and change a chain. I hope there won't be too many other difficulties; but I know I can walk the bike if necessary to get to someplace where I can get more help. Jay also had lots of suggestions about how to pack and what to take. I'm going to meet him there tomorrow to try out the trailer that his wife used when she and some friends rode around Lake Ontario, just to get the feel of it and see if I want to buy one like it. When we talked about clothing, Jay highly recommended wool -- wool socks, a Goodwill wool sweater in case it's cool and wet. He also recommended some of the high tech fabrics, but I'll have to see what I can get and what I can afford.

It's been a productive week as far as preparations go, but I'm still concerned about not riding enough. I guess if I can't get all the miles in that I hope, I'll be training on the early legs of my travels. But as the weather improves and the house is in better shape, I hope to be able to devote more time to rides around the Grand Rapids/West Michigan area. Those will show up on my FB Strava posts. I hope I get to have a ride with friend Jane Van Hof on Sunday -- weather permitting.

I guess this is becoming a once-a-week-on-Friday blog, at least for the time being. I suppose, when I'm on the road, I'll have more to tell you more often.

Preparing for showings of the house has been a challenge. When I see how the place looks now, it's no wonder the people who saw it last week thought it looked like "too much work." But it's a little weird living here without family pictures on the walls, to say nothing of the dearth of furniture. It's hard to find places to put things I'm still using, and even harder to remember where I've stashed things. Every time I leave the house before a showing, I feel a bit panicky, as though I've forgotten something important ... did I remember to move that bag of trash to the basement? Did I hang up the clothes that were lying on the bed? Did I put the tattered towel away and replace it with a nice-looking one? And then I remember how grubby and messy the place still looked when the first people went through, and I try to let go of the "did I" questions.

There's someone (maybe more than one someone) who will see the beauty, and the value, and the potential in this house and its superb location; and I have confidence in the outcome.

What hit me today, though, was the very reality of the fact that I'm making myself homeless. I blogged on my Sacred Space site a while back about the definition of "home," wondering what it will mean for Remy, particularly, when there is no specific place to return to after a walk. Now, I see that Remy is probably not the one who will feel that sense of placelessness. His place is with me. For him, home is wherever I am. But what about me?

Some of my wonderful Facebook friends have promised me that, as long as I am loved -- and I am, I will never be homeless. And I know this to be true. Perhaps the journey ahead will help me feel in my body and soul what I know now mostly in concept: that the world is my home, that I belong where I am, wherever that is. I'm quite sure, as the ride progresses, that I will have days of believing this deeply, and days of doubting it. I am also sure that I will grow daily in my understanding.

This evening was one of those difficult times, but with the encouraging words of friends, the anxious moments have passed. One of my very wise daughters, Alice, recommended to me recently a list of five things to make sure I include in my life on a daily basis. They are: nutrition, exercise, inspiration, socializing, and reflection. I suspect the days ahead will be weighted toward reflection and exercise, and light on socializing, but I will try to mind her advice, for I see great value in it. In fact, I believe now is the time to begin a daily morning reflection during which I will remember the five things to include now and in the future. Thanks, Alice!

Another week has passed, and I admit to barely making it to the Y (although I did have a street ride of about 8.5 miles last weekend before the next round of heavy snow came in). All of this preparation to sell the house is like having another job! But I am not terribly concerned. I have just under 2 months to go in my preparations, and long-range weather models predict a warm, if rainy, pattern; so I plan to be out on the road a lot in the coming weeks. A friend of a friend who has done bike touring for many years said that, when I can ride 55 miles 3 days in a row, I'll be ready.That said, I'm trying to plan some weekends when I can do precisely that. I hope to arrange to ride to my brother's in Kalamazoo, stay over, ride back to Grand Rapids the next day, and then do some kind of loop the following day.

I will, of course, be taking Remy, my dog, who will be accompanying me on the Grand Rapids to Seattle journey. He has done some riding in his basket, but not more than 22 miles to date. I need to see how he will do with the longer days. One of my roommates said that, when I'm gone during the day, all he does is sit on the couch and wait for me to come home, so I hope that bodes well for hours of sitting in the basket.

Another development since last I wrote: a friend is seriously considering driving SAG for me! He would drive my car so that, at the end of the trip, I could send him back to Michigan or on to Denver (he's not sure at this point), and I would have my car to use or to trade in for a Class B motor home when I arrive in Seattle. Having SAG means that I could be better equipped without having to carry more weight. It means that we could take a cooler, so we could shop for really good quality food along the way and not have to eat whatever is available in each passing town. And it means that there is always someone within 60 miles who can help if there's an injury to bike or rider that can't be repaired on the spot. It also means that people who love me will feel a little more comfortable knowing that Remy and I will not be completely alone crossing the northern prairies and mountains.

For the first time in many years, I find my mind filled with "things I gotta do" when I'm trying to fall asleep at night. The first showing of my house is tomorrow, and there is still much to be done to take care of "stuff" that remains, and to clean blinds and floors, etc. I have a couple of hours this afternoon and two roommates who say they'll help. Once the showings start, I have to figure out what to do with Remy at the times of the showings. He is not often welcoming to anyone new, or even to some people he knows. As for the cat, she's just going to have to be here. I really do need to find a home for her, though, if you know of anything.

The house is emptying, and the dog's barks echo, especially in the kitchen. Last night, I took my rain stick to someone who was purchasing it from me. I visited with a number of people I don't see often, but whose faces I cherish, and I thought as so many have over the generations, "Will I see these people again?" So, some of the hustle and bustle of preparing is now tempered with nostalgia. But here's the mantra that hums in my soul: Do I want to be the woman who succumbs to her doubts and holds back, or do I want to be the woman who has an adventure? The answer is always the same.