Trust & Hope

While riding home from San Diego on the train I met a young woman who I had the good fortune of striking up a conversation with. Not surprisingly (given the way the Universe has been busy in my life lately) I learned that she was going through some of the same decisions in life that I was. Facing some of the same fears.

Living in LA, she had been working for a production company until relatively recently when she was let go. Yes, the production business in LA (well, anywhere really) is pretty volatile but, interestingly, she was let go because the owner felt that...essentially...her heart wasn't in the work. And, she admits, he was right.

And while she admitted that being let go was really a great thing in the end, she still had lots of anxiety about how to support herself trying something she had always wanted to do: write. Over the months just before I met her, write she did! And, all credit to her, sold her old bosses on a screenplay she'd written. A sale she made when she was, literally, down to her last few dollars in the bank.

Now, you would think that she would be ecstatic. Delirious! She'd powered through and made it out of the tunnel of darkness and into the light! And, yes, in many ways she had.

But that commercial success wasn't nearly enough "good karma" to counterbalance what really was weighing on her mind: grief over the loss of a relationship she deeply cared about.

In speaking with her about how in the world she could possibly...even after a year...escape from the deep despair she felt and end the longing she felt for what had been, our conversation began to touch on the topics of trust and hope. During our chat, I offered up the following thought:

 

Just remember that hope is free, and that what you are trusting in is the future sorting itself out in a way you can't even imagine now

 

 

As I wrote about the terror that will, and has, surrounded my attempts at forging a new path for my life, that thought came back to me yesterday. There is every reason to hope that my hard work and my efforts will bear fruit some day. I mean, why not? People DO get what they hope for at times. Steph, for instance, got a screenwriting sale she'd been hoping for at the very last possible moment before she was about to start living on the streets.

 

And, I feel even more importantly, I am more ready than ever to trust that my future will sort itself out in a way I can't even imagine now. Yes, I'm trying to work on a plan...my "Gap Year" plan...but I'm pretty convinced that all that will be is the basis for the changes the Universe will make to my plan. A template that I'll be able to look back on and say "well, it certainly didn't turn out the way I expected"

 

And then smile :)

 

You can see Steph's artistic stylings here and on Instagram as move_like_magic

The "Gap Year" Idea is Born

One of the questions that arose in my mind on the very first day I was back in my house...journey over, no job or "regular life" to go back to...was this -

 

"What if I consider my bike journey the start of a fabulous year vs. just a singular event that happened and is now done?"

 



That immediately spawned this thought -

 

"Why don't I call 2017 my 'Gap Year' and do the kinds of things that people do in their 'Gap Year'?"

 

For those of you unfamiliar with the term "Gap Year" here is what Wikipedia says about it:

 

In the professional or career world, a gap year is a year before going to college or university and after finishing high school or taking a year off before going into graduate school after completing a bachelor as an undergraduate. It is also known as a sabbatical year. During this time students may engage in advanced academic courses, extra-academic courses and non-academic courses, such as yearlong pre-college math courses, language studies, learning a trade, art studies, volunteer work, travel, internships, sports and more. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gap_year

 

That sounded like a revelation! I could take my one adventure, add to it and...perhaps...have enough for a book. My initial thought was to call my book "Living Life Backwards: My Gap Year at 54"

 

And the very first adventure I knew I wanted to try and add to 2017 was a thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail. It had crossed my mind during my journey and the desire to accomplish the feat was fresh in my mind. I'd always wanted to hike the Northbound route (NOBO on the AT) and I knew that the general starting time was early March to early April...right around the corner. I also knew it usually took most folks about 6-7 months to complete, so I would be done around early October.

 

Might one of these be mine this year?

 

But then another thought came to me -

 

"What if I completed some other Gap Year activity AFTER my AT thru-hike? And, to forge a wonderfully symbolic end to my Gap Year, what if I came back home on the exact day...the day after Christmas...that I had left for San Diego?"

 

Perfect idea! But what to do? In looking back over what a Gap Year usually entails, the words "volunteer work" sprung out at me. Then, like a thunderbolt hitting me, I suddenly knew my Gap Year could be a trifecta of adventures:

 

Bike, Hike & Help

 

With that terrific thought in mind, I began to consider what kind of volunteer opportunity I might be able to pursue for a few months at the end of this year. After some initial research I quickly learned that while there were lots of volunteer opportunities out there, most of them charged you a pretty hefty "management" fee in order to participate on top of the travel expenses that you have to cover yourself. That didn't really sound all that appealing so I became more interested in an organization called Worldwide Opportunities for Organic Farming, or WWOOF.

 

The idea of WWOOF is simple, and is much like Warmshowers.org: it simply matches up volunteers with potential host farmers. From there the volunteer works directly with the farmer to determine how long they'll be volunteering. The farmer provides room, board and whatever training would be required and the volunteer provides labor and covers their own travel costs. I was particularly interested in this opportunity: Herding Sheep in Mongolia

 

Ever since I read the novel "Golden Hawks of Ghengis Khan" as a boy, I've wanted to visit Mongolia

But to do this I had to be able to not earn any real income for a solid year. How was I going to make THAT happen??

 

 

Today

Epilogue

And Now For the Rest of the Story

 

 

I suppose it would be a terrible thing if a journey like I completed a month ago didn't help me grow into being a better person in some way. Not that I embarked on the journey for that specific purpose, but you'd think that it would have SOME impact on my life, right? I mean it wasn't like this was my 20th bike tour or something. It was my first. And, it occurred at a huge juncture in my life. I'd just left my job AND my divorce finally...finally!...came through.

 

Well, as it turns out, this bike tour changed my life. Changed it in ways I could never have imagined when I first set out from my driveway the day after Christmas. The solitude and time to think brought me clarity about my life...and about myself...that I realized I desperately needed.

 

Realization 1

My old life had not been making me happy. Not at all. Now, there was a time when I thought that I had "made it" in life: I had all the requisite "stuff" one should acquire: a beautiful home, a corner office, expensive toys, loads of money to travel or buy more stuff...whatever. But increasingly during the course of 2016 I began to feel a sinking, hollow feeling. The "stuff" and symbols of status that I'd acquired...now that I had them...weren't bringing me joy. Sure, my life was comfortable in every way; but it was NOT fulfilling.

 

Realization 2

I needed a new life that was focused on experiences...living a full rich life...and NOT on acquiring more "stuff." My life for decades had consisted of climbing the corporate ladder to get higher and higher salaries to get more and more stuff. But over the course of my ride I finally...like many other have before me...figured out that I was on a hamster wheel that wasn't getting me anywhere. More money meant more stuff. More stuff necessitated more money. Round and round.

 

Now, it is all well and good to learn that your old way of doing things wasn't working. I feel lucky to have learned that. But the trick, of course, is figuring out how to live one's life going forward. So, over the past month since the end of my tour I've spent a great deal of time figuring out an answer...or at least a few possible answers...to the question of "what next?"

 

Right now, I'm working with these three resolutions as the guides to my new life:

1. I want to live what I'm calling a "flexible" life. By that I mean not having income that is dependent on reporting to a specific location each and every day and working a relatively set schedule each day all year. My goal is to be able to be mobile and work from anywhere if I wish.
2. Some day I want to earn income from a business that I start. It is something I've always been afraid to try (primarily out of a fear of failure), but it is also something I would like to say I've done. What kind of business I don't know, but I have some initial ideas :)
3. I want to earn money...somehow!...from writing. I have so thoroughly enjoyed this journal-writing experience (and have received such a strong amount of positive feedback and interest in my journaling efforts) that I want to keep going.

 

I am going to try to do all I can to avoid having to go back to corporate America in order to provide income for myself. And the first step in that effort is to seriously "Minimalize" my life. To that end, over these past weeks I've been home I've begun the process of selling pretty much all my stuff. I'll keep only those items I absolutely need in order to live my life and everything else goes. I've included pics of some of the main items (my house, my Harley), but I'm going down to a tiny fraction of the "stuff'-filled life of my past.

 

There are many benefits of this plan, but the primary benefit is to reduce my costs down SO MUCH that I can afford to live that "flexible" life. I can afford not to have to go get another big corporate job in order to fund all this "stuff" in my life. My goal is to reduce my expenses so drastically that I might be able to earn what I need to earn for the year in, say, the summer months, and then use that money to power my life throughout the rest of the year so that I can...like Iris who I met on my journey...could bike tour during the winter months if I wished.

 

So...with this new two-pronged strategy (new income streams AND significantly reduced living expenses) I hope to achieve the new goals I have in life.

 

I have no illusions that this will be easy. In fact, I expect to feel total panic on an every-other-day basis. For instance, when my house sells I'll be homeless...and I currently don't exactly have a plan for where to live when that happens (though I have some ideas). That has already produced some bouts of terror let me tell you!

 

But I'm just as committed to turning my life into one more full of joy as I was committed to finishing my ride to San Diego. I hope this next journey turns out just as well as my last one did :)

 

 

 

 

 The Harley I loved at one point, then stopped riding when I got my bicycle.

I've now sold it.

 

The home I'm in the process of selling as part of my massive "downsizing" effort so that I can live a simpler, more fulfilling life.

 

This is me the day I bought my road bike in early 2014. That simple decision was the start of a new path in my life.

 

In early 2016 I decided to try and get in better shape. My goal was to be able to "go out and do" any activity I wanted to without having to worry...at all...about whether or not I was in shape to do it. This photo is of me, in early April of that year, finishing the first 5k I've run since I left the Army in 1992. This decision made it possible to decide to go on a 2,300 mile bike journey and then depart one week later.

 

Compare this pic of me the day I rode into Austin Texas to the other two photos! There is no way to overstate how terrific cycling has been for me.

 

(February 12 to 17)

The Trip Home

What Now?

During my short stay in San Diego, I rode my bike down to the harbor to enjoy the tourist sights. I've always loved the "wooden ships & iron men" era of naval history!

 The view of my coach seating car. As you can see, the train wasn't all that full for most of my trip East.

My "Sunset Limited" Amtrak train at its stop in Houston, TX. It was nice to be able to get out of the train occasionally to stretch my legs and get some sunshine.

 

I was amazed to be greeted at Union Station in New Orleans by a group of my cycling friends from home!!

 

From L to R:
Karen Haskins, Jan Clark, Kellye Carlisle, Leslie Robinson and Elizabeth Spooner.  

 

Monty Clark, a cyclist I hope I can grow up to be someday.

 

San Diego Interlude

It won't surprise you to know that on the first day...well, the first few days really...following the end of my journey I really struggled to adjust to not being on a bike tour any longer. No more was I able to answer the question of "what am I going to do today?" with "ride my bike West!"

Yes, I did have some errands to run to get ready to return in that I needed to ship some of my gear home that I didn't want to have to carry on the train, and I needed to get some new tires for my bike. Luckily, my good friend Lisa Girolamo no only let me stay on her couch for three days, but also let me borrow her car to get things done.

 

And, yes, I did do some tourist-y things like visit the harbor, get some donuts at the world famous Donut Barn, etc., But, I'd lived in San Diego for six years and worked downtown near where Lisa's place is so there wasn't much I hadn't already seen.

 

And, I did visit my favorite ex-wife Denise, her two boys Jordan and Owen and my good friend Punkee...which was an awesome time.

 

And, I did start applying to some bike tour companies for one of the things I thought I might do once I'd returned to "real life": bike tour leader.

 

But mostly I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what I would do next. I mean, I was unemployed. And, while I had money to take care of my needs for a while, it wasn't going to last forever and I needed to get start earning money in some fashion. One thing I knew, however, is that I was committed to NOT going back to the old corporate world I'd come from. I was going to do my best to forge a new path.

 

Amtrak Train Journey East
I made the decision to get back home via Amtrak because they offered me the chance to have my bike travel on the train without needing to check it as baggage. No boxes, pedal removal, etc.. And it was a great decision. I loved how easy it was to get my bike to where it needed to go.

I so love train travel! Unlike traveling on a plane, there is no security to worry about and you can get up and walk throughout the train whenever you wish. You can eat in the dining car, go down and grab a snack from the snack bar, go sit in the viewing car or simply stay in your seat. So informal vs. an airplane trip! I really enjoyed meals in the dining car because you get to meet all sorts of new folks who end up sitting in your booth with you. Now, admittedly, it was hard for me to sleep comfortably in my coach seat (and when I do this again I might spring for the extra money and get a sleeping berth), but I managed. And, I think I'd bring some extra snacks with me just to cut down on the cost of food given its relatively expensive to buy it on the train. But as a way to get to and from a bike tour in the US, I'd highly recommend it.

 

Homecoming
I want to send a BIG shout-out to a group of my cycling friends who drove down to surprise me at the New Orleans train station! I was amazed and humbled. It was the perfect ending to the journey of a lifetime. Not only did they do me the honor of a surprise greeting when I stepped off the train and into the station, they'd planned an entire "day" of fun beginning with dinner that night and a ride on the beautiful Tammany Trace in Slidell, LA the next day. Every epic journey needs an epic homecoming and mine was fabulous!



 

(February 11)

Day 48 - Pine Valley to San Diego CA

It's Not Over 'til It's Over

 

The unappealing start to my riding day in Pine Valley.

 Changing my back tire in Lakeside California. I was glad that this tree was right there as it covered my gear and I completely from the rain while I made the repair.

 The final few miles of my entire journey: the Ocean Beach Bike Trail which runs along the San Diego River. In the distance to the far right of the pic, that tower you see is Sea World.

 Why do my sunglasses always go awry when I smile for selfies? Anyway, the culmination of the greatest journey of my life...so far! :)

 Dipping my front wheel in the ocean...a tradition as I understand it. There is no accompanying pic of my back wheel dipped because I didn't start on the Atlantic side of the route.

 

 Last night I was picturing today. A lazy, pleasant day spent coasting downhill for roughly 50 miles until the descent deposited me right at the ocean. Just as it had been for a couple of weeks, it would be sunny and warm. No more climbs to worry about, just letting gravity propel me to the beach.
Except not.

Overcast all day. A steady rain all morning. Chilly...down into the low 40s. A big climb I wasn't expecting as soon as I departed Pine Valley. And while there was a LOT of downhill riding, the problem became my soaked clothes, when combined with the 25mph+ speeds I was traveling at, made me freezing cold!

So, picture this: I'm soaked. Shivering. My hands and face are numb. And I'm thinking "but THIS IS SAN DIEGO!!!" This was supposed to happen in OTHER states. OTHER towns. San Diego is world famous...justifiably so...for its warm, pleasant, sunny weather.
And then I got a flat tire.

By this time I was laughing out loud at how my future always turns out quite a bit differently than I imagine. Wildly different most of the time. The universe LITERALLY rained on my parade.

But, in the end, it didn't stop me. I put up with it all and enjoyed my ride anyway. And if I've learned anything on this trip it is that you'd better be ready for things to turn out unexpectedly...and be happy they did. Because it wouldn't have been anywhere near the adventure of the lifetime that this journey turned out to be if everything had gone according to plan.

(February 10)

Day 47 - Ocotillo to Pine Valley CA

The Queen Stage

 

Departing for my big day well before dawn.

After a breakfast of yogurt and chocolate-covered donuts at the Chevron, I began my ride just as dawn broke in the Western sky.

The climb up In-ko-pah is so steep, cars in the summer who run their A/C frequently overheat. Thus these reservoirs of radiator water. There were 19 reservoirs on my first, worst climb.

 

In pro cycling, climbs are rated as "Categories" based on what gear a car would need to be in in order to climb it. I'm changing that to classify climbs by how many radiator water reservoirs are required. So, I completed a 19RR climb today.

Patrick, my fellow tribesman. I met him just outside Live Oak Springs as he was headed, vaguely, towards New England. Patrick was quite the outdoor chef in that he had a roast chicken from Wal Mart in one of his front panniers that he used as the fixins for dinner on three consecutive camping nights. Roast chicken!

Ron Staschak from Maine...another tribesman! I met Ron just outside of Pine Valley and our very first topic of conversation was what a horrific day of climbing we had each experienced. Ron has been bike touring over shorter distances for a long time, but this is the first time he's touring for this kind of distance. His plan is to ride the Southern Tier and THEN head north to Maine and home.

Ron's "noseless" saddle. It's the first one I've ever seen (had no idea there was even such a thing before today) and I was immediately interested in it. Ron says it is "like sitting on a park bench." I can state without hesitation that I really wish I'd been sitting on a park bench for the last 2300 miles.

 

 

In the big pro cycling stage races...like the Tour de France...the toughest, most demanding stage of the race (also the one which carries the greatest prestige) is called the “Queen Stage.”

 

Today was the Queen Stage of my journey. I’ve never had a more difficult day on a bike. Not that I’m all that experienced as a cyclist (I’ve been riding only about 18 months or so), but it was so tough, I was almost staggering with fatigue when I checked into the motel in Pine Valley. Only 47 miles, but there was 5500 feet of climbing. And the first 10 miles...from Ocotillo up to In-Ko-Pah Road...was ALL uphill at an almost-entirely 6% grade. If I hadn’t ditched the trailer I would have never made it. As it stood, I still had to stop twice to take a drink and walk around a bit before I could keep climbing. And that was just the first of THREE long, steep climbs of the day.

 

As you all read in my post yesterday, I feared today. It was my Goliath. Having lived in San Diego for six years, I had a pretty good memory of these mountains. I knew it would be a righteous endeavor even on my road bike...not to mention doing it with my touring rig.

 

I won’t lie...it took all I had physically AND mentally. There was a point...about 2/3rds of the way up the first, worst climb….when I was, literally, crying at how hard it was to keep going. I’m sure that for better riders it wouldn’t be that hard, but for me at my level of fitness it was a supreme challenge.

 

But I made it. I didn’t walk any of the hills...I rode my bike up and over everything the route put in front of me including some headwinds along the way that a local rider turned back from and warned me against as he went back by me the other way not long after having passed me going my direction.

 

I know that tomorrow is technically my last riding day, but in reality today was the culmination...the literal and figurative peak...of my odyssey. All of the ghosts that started with me were exorcised. All of the long days of pondering and thinking about the future coalesced into one crystal clear vision on that first, worst climb. All of the fears and doubts which had dogged me these last several weeks escaped my mind and soul as the tears streamed down my face on that first, worst climb. I achieved what I didn’t even realize I wanted or needed when I started: peace..

 

And, more, I gained a belief in myself that...despite some very tough challenges in the past which I’d successfully conquered...I’ve never previously had. I know for a fact I’ve never previously believed I had this kind of courage in me. I didn’t ride out of my driveway to find courage per se, but I now realize that somewhere, somehow I was seeking confirmation that I had some. Maybe more than anything I’ve wanted for a long time, I wanted to prove...to myself...that I had the “right stuff.” I know that will sound strange to many reading this who know something of the things I’ve already accomplished in life, but this was different. This wasn’t done as part of some structured program where I “graduated.” It wasn’t simply having lost a certain amount of weight. Etc..

 

No, this was being deeply fearful on Christmas Day about what lay ahead. Seriously afraid it was going to prove more than I could handle and failing somewhere along the way. Worse, having to go back home and tell everyone that I, well, didn’t actually make it to San Deigo. I dreaded the shame and humiliation that I’d feel if I couldn’t make it. And STILL leaving my driveway that first morning anyway.

 

• This was me knowing the wind was going to be terrible….but STILL going out anyway.

• This was me failing to keep rule after rule. Meeting many other tourists who were camping every night, cooking every meal, etc....in other words, being the kind of bike tourist I had pictured as my ideal...and being forced to admit I was exactly what I feared I really was: a candyass. Knowing I didn’t measure up and feeling terrible about myself because of that knowledge. But STILL continuing my journey anyway.

• This was me fearing today’s huge riding challenge for over two months...and STILL making my way to the base of that hill this morning and beginning the ride up anyway.

• I have no idea what the future will hold for me, and I have many doubts as to whether or not I can make it all happen the way I envision it...but I’m going to damn well try anyway.

P.S.

I wanted to send a shout-out to Jim Ralph, my road angel today. Despite being former Navy, he was extremely kind to me, a former Army guy! He not only had offered to provide SAG support for me if needed (up to and including any kind of emergency, “I Can’T Do This” transportation in the back of his truck as far out at Gila Bend AZ!), but today he took a scenic drive out toward Jacumba just in case he could find me...and he did, in Live Oak Springs...and bring me some cold water and snacks for my ride. We had a wonderful conversation about bike touring in all its facets. Jim is planning to ride the Southern Tier later this year and had found my journal as part of his research for his trip. I’m pretty sure that I’ve made every mistake there is to make when it comes to bike touring, so I hope my misadventures help make his own tour as smooth as silk :)

 

 

(February 9)

Day 46 - Brawley to Ocotillo CA

And I Thought Two Wheels Were Tough

 

Everything in under these roofs and tarps...all the way into the far distant horizon... is hay. All hay. Enough hay, I think, to feed all the cattle in the state for a year.

For anyone traveling from San Diego to Phoenix, this gypsum plant in Plaster City is an iconic landmark off in the distance.

I had to travel over 2000 miles to find the WORST paved surface I'd ridden on during the entire trip. 12 miles of this, all over the road (and thus unavoidable) from Plaster City to Ocotillo.

The friendly environs of the Ocotillo Motel and Trailer Park.

 

So, today just a few hundred yards outside Ocotillo CA, my final destination for the day, I see a figure in the distance that isn’t a car. I usually have to wait a beat to determine just how fast the object is moving to know whether or not it is a motorcycle. So, moments after spotting the object headed my way I know it is a bicycle and start my “meet my tribe” protocol: slow down, turn off my audiobook and prepare to turn onto their side of the road for a quick chat.

 

Normally, the cyclist coming from the other direction is also slowing down. And/or waving. And, of course, I can detect these things happening so I know we’ll be meeting up on the side of the road in mere moments. But...quite strangely...I note that the other figure isn’t slowing. Undeterred, I go ahead stop on my side of the road and prepare to wave and hail my fellow bike tourist.

Except, in a flash, I realize this person isn’t a BIcycle tourist….he is a UNIcycle tourist.

 

Yep, the guy is riding a UNIcycle that was, hands down, one of the strangest wheeled contraptions I’ve seen. I honestly didn’t get any kind of good look at the guy (it was a man) because he just kept riding by me without slowing, but the single wheel was at least 4 ft. high.. He was, somehow, hunched over with his arms/elbows in what looked like aero bars. What in the world they were attached to who knows! There seemed to be no carrying bags attached to the unicycle of any kind (although, admittedly, I might have missed in my haste to figure out if what I was seeing was what I was really seeing).

 

And as he passed, he simply shouted out “where are you coming from?”...again, without slowing. I shouted back “Mississippi” but I’m not sure he heard me; and I definitely know he didn’t here my “what the hell are you riding?” question which immediately followed.

 

Other than that, it was a relatively relaxed riding day. Only 47 miles, but pretty flat all in all. Yes, the temperature did rise to 98...yes, in early February, 98!!!!...but the wind was not a factor today. And, yes, the final 12 miles from just outside Plaster City all the way into Ocotillo featured the WORST….and I’m not exaggerating….road surface I’ve experienced since I started this ride over six weeks ago. I had to take a picture of it just to even have a hope of anyone believing me. It’s a very good thing The Beast is bombproof, because any less-sturdy bike would have been destroyed by those 12 miles of pitted, cracked, holed, rocky, gravelly roadway.

 

I even had a moment of feeling really decadent when I woke up AT dawn rather than well BEFORE dawn, and then didn’t even get on the road until just before 10 am. I knew it was a relatively short riding day (only 46 miles), so I didn’t want to arrive in Ocotillo far too early to check into the lone hotel there. Not that I should have worried. Now that I’m here I realize they don’t really operate this place like corporate, chain-owned hotel and would hae let me check in whenever I arrived.

 

So, now I have all the hours until I head to sleep to worry and fret over my big climb tomorrow. I’ve dreaded this climb since before I left on the trip. But, I’m tired of dreading it and want to just get started and get it done. Time to slay the beast so that it won’t haunt my thoughts any longer!