Moments...

5/7/2023

Before I get into the rest of this post, I want to acknowledge someone who was instrumental in the planning and logistics of the party thrown for Gary and I last Sunday in Coupeville, Gary’s daughter Jenny. After rereading some of my recent posts, I realized that I’d overlooked her contributions to what was an awesomely good time, and I wanted to make sure that I corrected that omission. So many people have done wonderful and deeply impactful things for us over the last two months, and whenever I notice that I’ve left someone out, I want to make sure that I correct the discrepancy. So thank you Jenny, that party was perfect!

I’ve been home for 4 days now, with today marking two weeks since Bob flew home to Phoenix, and Gary and I began our trek to his home in Washington. I’ve quickly fallen back into my routine, a routine that I missed much, much more than I would have expected when we began our journey on March 4^th. The OREM has been emptied of all the remaining food, camping gear and meager creature-comforts that sustained and sheltered us for nearly two months, her interior well-vacuumed, which revealed new and presumably permanent stains and scratches, stark testaments to a job well-done. Hank has been reassembled, but remains uncleaned for the time being as he slumbers atop worn-out tires in the garage, perhaps dreaming of past conquests like all old warriors do, dreams of asphalt, rain and wind, of flying down hills and crashing through potholes until reaching the end of the road.

Over the past two days I’ve spent several hours pulling weeds in my yard, a task that used to seem tedious but now feels comforting. Neighbors and strangers out for a walk on classically beautiful San Diego days came and went. We’d smile and say “hi,” a few lingering briefly to chat, each of us mostly unaware of the recent events and adventures in the other’s life. Moments, strung end to end like pearls, became minutes and then hours until the work was done, the ache in my lower back a reminder that I was alive and exactly where I wanted to be: home. To say that I’ve gained a new appreciation of what the word “home” means falls well-short of how it actually feels. My heart is full, and I’ll strive to do what I can over the remainder of my life to keep it as full as I possibly can, which might just be the real reason we’re here in this place and time as flesh & blood creatures, enjoying and suffering our way through our moments, oft times in equal measure. The good, the bad, the mundane...I’ll try and embrace it all without blinking, but also try and remember to forgive myself whenever I do, because I’m certain I will.

Most members of the Tribe have also completed their conquests of The Southern Tier, although I’ve no word yet on the Frenchman Oscar. Ana & Dustin (check out Ana’s Instagram page at: forever_alpine for some wonderful pictures and videos of their ride), Jamie Lee, and the brothers Von & Wendell have all dipped their tires in the warm and welcoming waters of the Atlantic, their accomplishments as self-supported riders an amazing thing for me to consider given the benefits Gary, Bob and I had with The OREM as our mobile sanctuary. These good folks had nothing but what they could carry on their bicycles to keep them safe and sustained, and as difficult as it was for us, it was at least doubly so for them. I’m so very proud of you all, and even though our moments together out on the road were relatively brief, getting to know each of you and sharing in the struggle is, and will remain, one of my favorite memories of the journey. Congratulations my friends, may our paths cross again someday...

This will probably be the last post on this blog as I don’t know what else I could add that would move the narrative forward in any meaningful way. The journey of a lifetime has run its course, and the eternal march of time demands that we keep looking ahead, maybe toward the next adventure, but mostly toward the moment at hand, and the next, and then the next, until we reach the end of our days, worn-out and hopefully happy, having lived as authentically as we were capable of doing.

Tomorrow I’m going to start writing the book that I’ve been talking about writing for at least 25 years, a book that has been demanding its release from “back-burner” status for far-too long. I’m finally ready to listen to those demands, the ride from one coast to the other having taught me a very simple truth, that the way you get anything done is by simply doing it, and whether it begins with a single pedal stroke or a single word doesn’t matter...just keep pedaling, just keep writing, just keep doing, and along the way remember to be brave...be strong...and most importantly...be kind...