Waves Against Sand

Riding Day 37 – 84.73 miles

For tonight’s post, I’ll keep the description of the day’s ride to a minimum as I want to delve more deeply into a few other topics.

We enacted our normal morning routine within the same basic timeframe and climbed aboard Hank shortly after 9:00. There was a headwind, and there were numerous baby hills, but the roads were smooth, the shoulders wide, and even though the sun was out most of the day, the temps were very nice until late afternoon when it got hot and humid. About 10 miles before we quit for the day it rained buckets for 10 or 15 minutes, and then the sun came back out. Typical Florida weather.

Passing through Lake City, FL provided us with some “entertainment” as we were cat-called by three guys in a truck, and then some young women in a pickup told us to get off the road and quit blocking traffic. A few minutes later another woman in an SUV yelled at us to get off the road. Florida law states that “a bicycle can ride on any and all roads as long as they stay to the right of the farthest right lane,” which of course we always do simply because we want to remain among the living. But it feels like there’s an inherent mean-spiritedness to the driving culture in Florida. I was warned about Florida drivers by multiple people, but seeing is believing, and I can’t wait to be finished and let these folks have their roads back to battle it out however they want.

Many of you have reached out to me directly, or through others, wanting to know when and where we will finish so that you can join us to help celebrate the completion of our quest. I appreciate that desire, and I want to emphasize how much it has meant to all three of us that so many folks have been pulling for us. This has been perhaps the most challenging thing I’ve ever attempted, and even though I’ve been sharing most things as openly and honestly as I can, there are other layers to this story that can only be understood by The Bob, Odie, and I, layers that at times nearly stopped us, but in the end have perhaps made us wiser and stronger. We have 43 miles remaining to reach the Atlantic Ocean, which should happen sometime tomorrow, and sitting here typing in a campground while getting eaten alive by mosquitoes, I can already feel the emotions welling up inside me as I think of what we’ve endured and overcome. Standing on that beach tomorrow…I can only guess at what’s going to show up for each of us individually, but also collectively. I think of how the crew of Apollo 11 must have felt upon returning to earth, how they must have yearned to be left alone so the three of them could simply be together and process what they had survived and achieved. But of course, they didn’t have that option, their lives forever changed and held hostage in the glass fishbowl of public scrutiny and adoration. We haven’t done anything comparable to their accomplishment, but we have done something mighty and magnificent relative to our own humble lives. And so tomorrow, when we finally make it to that beach, I think it would be fitting if it was just the three of us alone, sitting quietly as we listen to the eternal lapping of waves against sand. Peace to you all, and may the light of kindness forever invade your souls…