Me and My Shadow

It's taken weeks of dedication, but I have finally lost all my tan.  Okay, maybe not all, but I can go out in a bathing suit now without the tri-tone thighs.  I apply sunscreen on both sides of my body, instead of the one side that gets the sun throughout an entire day on the bike.

 One of the things I notice is the play of shadows now as both time of year and location have started to shift for us. 

On tour, shade was a rare commodity,
so our our shadows were small, close and tight.

Out east, our shadows loom long and dark, while out west - they were barely a mark on the pavement.

Now as I wander, once again on two feet instead of two wheels - my image is set. 
In Peter Pan, the Darling children are always losing their shadows,
Peter cries when his runs away, and Wendy knows how attach them. 
There are theories out there as to the meaning of those shadows - whether images of childhood innocence and fantasy or the premonition of pending adulthood and it's responsibilities. 
All I know, is when we're riding, we're flying...and for the moment - we won't grow up.

 

Landing

It has been exactly fifty six days since we have landed home from "tour".  But who's counting?
In this time Jeff and I have, as best we could, returned to our lives...
I won't even use the word "normal".
This transition has included family events and visits, large and small,
countless emails and meetings, fulfilling job obligations whether
new business - old business - or fix it business,
 and the feeble attempts to get back in the saddle, while resisting the pull of the "have to's".
We are exceptionally good at "shoulding" on ourselves.

We have been asked if we had fun on our trip.  
Honestly, I just don't know how to answer that.
I know this - I am so thankful to have done what I did,
have seen what I have, and met who I have.
Wise Tracy had mentioned a time or two, that the tour
changes people.
Sometimes it's an immediate change;
I no longer eat meat - thanks Dalhart, TX.
Sometimes it takes the passing of time to be able to discern
what changes have occurred.

I spend more times outdoors.  I have a choice of underwear and shoes.
Jeff can go in the lake. Jeff can go for his runs.
We have an endless supply of fresh vegetables.
We no longer have an automatic refill of Chamois Cream.
Our endurance is better.
Our family has access to us again.

However - at least once a week, one of us verbalizes what
we both have thought at least a couple times to ourselves...
it was easier on tour.
It has been exactly fifty six days
since we have landed home from "tour".
But who's counting?

Hindsight

Old habits are hard to break.
If you recall, it was required that all riders have some sort of rear view mirror, for safety of course.
True to all the other advice given by Wise Tracy, and her band of merry staff, this advice was sound and true.
I can no more imagine driving my car without rear view mirrors,
than I can now ride even our "short loop" without my tiny mirror.
I relied on that backward vision to keep us protected, and provide valuable information.
I no longer had to strain my neck in my imitation of an owl,
just to see if the sound I heard was a semi or a Subaru.
(It makes a difference - believe me.)
My mirror was attached to my biking sunglasses - close and personal vision.
My eyes would sweep from vista to rear view,
automatically and unconsciously, admiring and alerting.
That hindsight saved my neck, my anxiety, and perhaps my life.
It became a habit...a good one.

Yesterday, I was walking through a busy parking lot, trying to remember where I set my car.
(Yes, I am old, and am three-forgotten-moments short of tying a bow on my antenna for easy detection.  Only, they don't have those anymore.)
There are cars and pedestrians everywhere.
My eyes lift up and sweep left to see what perils await,
only to catch myself in the realization
that not only do I not have those specific glasses on,
I am walking...not riding.

The only person who realizes this is embarrassing is me.

And now you...go ahead, laugh.  I did.

Taming of the Lilies

 Wild flowers were everywhere along the roads and highways.  Even the most inhospitable desert climate allowed a flower or two to bloom against all odds. From California to Ohio, I would see the same types of wild flowers repeat themselves, by pairs or dozens, until another variety would work it's way into nature's seemingly eclectic pattern.

As we headed east and north, I saw old friends; Queen Anne's Lace, Spiderwort, and of course - Wood Lilies.  The lilies came slowly into the mosh mix. Three or four might be against a cattle wire, and I might have to wait for minutes, or hours, to pass another grouping.  Eventually, as we traveled, the weather became cooler, and woods became denser alongside our route.  The chaos of lilies erupted.
Wild things.
They stood in large crowds, angling themselves in every direction, taking heed on neither sun, nor civilization.
They were bold, and riotous, and bright.

As we moved our way further up the map, you could find places where people would have dug up a cluster of the lilies to encircle their mailbox, anchor a garden gnome, or dare to plant an independent circle of them.
They were contained, obedient, and solitary - even in their group.
You could turn away from those lilies, not take notice, or admire their particular spectacle.
They were there - that's all.

When entering New Hampshire, people loosened their grip.
I could see less and less of the constraint of these wildflowers.
They were released, and allowed to grow where they wished -
unencumbered, unrestrained, uninhibited.
Wild things.
Every "house and awhile", you might see a small grouping encouraged back into someone's property - not for submission, but with permission.
Much better - for me at least.
I know we live in the Live Free or Die state.
We kid about that, right?
Maybe we should Be Wild, at least every once in awhile, and Live.

 

My Simple Truths



From sea...

...to shining sea.

We've come to the end of this adventure.
I'd like to thank you for having hung in
and read these.
You have been a lifeline to me.
During the tough bits during the day,
I've thought about you, thinking of words
and events I would say that night.
If beauty or wonder came into my path
during the ride, I'd think about
how nice it would be to share it with you.
To you I complained and celebrated -
thank you for your ear.
This blog will continue even though
this journey has ended.
If you stick with me, I hope to have more adventures with you -
perhaps not as grand, but maybe interesting.

These are my simple truths, that have developed and consolidated as we pedaled...

Cows belong in fields and pastures.
Calves belong with their mothers.
We all need less "stuff" than we think we do.
Attitude is truly everything.
My tan lines will never be even again.
Support locally.
Most people are good.
The rest is as important as the work.
Sunday is a day of rest.
Trains are amazing.
This country is vast and varied.
There's a lot we can do for this country.
Home is where my family and friends are, even if we're miles apart.
We all need each other.
We are all stronger than we think we are.
And love...love and tandems, tandem love...
It takes one pedal stroke at a time to create one mighty ride together.


Pacific man

And finally - I am blessed.

Atlantic man

Ride across country?  Check!

You Gotta Have Friends

Today was unique.
It was our last long ride.
It was over 90 miles.
It had climbs (wait, unique?)
It was the beginning of the end.
Or maybe the end of a beginning.

Our friends from home Bob and Ginger arrived this morning so Bob could ride with us today. (He's a rock star.)
The ride with Bob, the conversations of happenings back home, were a great beginning reentry for us. When we get home, we get to be with all the people we have missed. We need those people...we have missed them.

The amazing thing is, we now have all the people we have shared this life with, whether we've met them just once, or shared days and days of meals, misery, mirth and miles.

At tonight's dinner we began the thank you's. We still have one last ride together. We will do it together. We need these people. We will miss them.

The Importance of Being Earnest

There have been articles upon articles regarding the correlation between riding a tandem and being in a relationship. On this trip we've met many riders who are intrigued with the tandem, but would not consider it as an option; too much to ask in a marriage.  Today, we might consider their hesitation as sound.

To ride a tandem, the key component is communication. Clearly we began this journey with a solid set of comunication skills in place. However, to be honest, each day offers another opportunity to work on those skills.

Are you buying this?

The truth is, we're always working on it.

We left New York as we continued our walk/bike across America. In Troy, they were tearing apart the ancient sections of roads in town. As we passed by old buildings that displayed faded, painted walls which told of selling crackers for 5 cents, or textiles warehouses which were ghosts of fabrics past, we had to dismount and walk ourselves and the bike. There's a lot that happens prior the dismount.

The communication begins way before the walking, with me reading the cue sheet, passing along the information I had written from the previous night, and sharing whats going on behind us.
In the meantime, Jeff is assessing the conditions ahead of us, and determining if what I'm suggesting is even possible. Simultaneously, traffic is presenting it's own moment by moment challenge.

We got through that bit, just to enter a dark, bumpy tunnel, where we had to do the same thing.  Cars and trucks are whizzing by, decisions have to be "splitly" executed, and don't forget to look and appreciate the scenery.

Tension can be high.

There have been bits and pieces of the ride when silence was the better option.
This is fun?

But the brilliant part is, after some time, the conversation starts again, and the bridge of communication has another link in it.
We have to be clear and honest in these exchanges, because the next day we have to get back in the saddle and problem solve all day together...again.
We've been building this bridge for a very long time.
It is the most important, and sometimes the hardest work is -
to be earnest in tandem.

Bennington Monument...ask Jeff for a fun fact when you see him

Tracy said, "Look up"' so I did.  Big...huge...

signs of the rebuilding after last year's devastating floods all over ...

Green mountain state indeed.

No - I didn't jump ship...just thought about it...

See?  Still married...happy...and a little tuckered out after a 7 mile climb...