Day 70

 

Day 70

Menlo Park - the Pacific Coast, 30 miles

0 days left. 

This journey started longer ago than the 70 days recorded here. It started longer ago than even the six months of preparation. It began the way rivers do; tributaries of childhood memories joining together into a thick flowing cord that insists that I do not stay still. In many ways, that insistence is one of the core aspects of myself. It is more than just an urge to physically travel, more than an urge to simply traverse miles. I am compelled to keep moving as a person, to further my abilities, my mind, my connections. 

Just as the journey did not begin 70 days ago, neither does it end on the 70th day. It is my goal to live my life as though it is a continuation of the adventures I have lived previously. I don’t perceive a hard cutoff between “on the road” and “home”. It is closer to a sliding grey scale that never truly reaches one end or the other. 

Finishing the practical, physical aspects of the journey today was an interesting emotional experience. Often in my life, I have reflected that certain emotions, certain achievements, are impossible to truly comprehend. This trip certainly falls into that category. I find myself struggling to hold the full picture of my accomplishment in my mind. It is like trying to lift a jigsaw puzzle without shattering it; inevitably, all I am left with are the individual pieces.  When I think about the trip, it does not appear in my mind as a grand overarching accomplishment, but rather snapshots. A specific moment of rising from my bedroll to start the day, a specific food I ate, a specific mountain I passed. I say all this to explain why I felt ever so slightly underwhelmed by finishing -- an emotion my whole family can sympathize with, from when we reached Santiago all those years ago. 

Whenever I am confronted by an emotion that I can’t comprehend, I often turn to storytelling. I have found that stories possess this near magical ability to express ideas indirectly. A story can take an idea that cannot be put succinctly into words, surround that idea like a bubble, never popping it directly, yet revealing it by the shape of negative space. I will certainly write a story about my experience. I hope to have it completed by the end of August, and I will post it here. (I believe you can subscribe or follow the blog to receive an email update when I post). That story will be a more true “post-trip reflection” than anything I can currently write. 

What I will reflect on here -- and what truly characterizes the trip for me -- is the kindness I was shown while traveling. 

It came from many sources. First, it came from everybody reading this. You wouldn’t believe how much that page of scrappy handwriting helped my mental health this trip. It allowed me to take an experience that might have been overwhelmingly challenging and turn it into a story to tell. I became an audience to my own experience, and in doing so, made it so much more achievable. Thank you all so much for following, for reaching out to me, for paying for my dinners, for commenting, for cheering me on. You all are the reason I could do this. 

But it also came from the hundreds of people I met. Every driver who changed lanes to avoid me, every motorcyclist who cheered as they passed this. Every cyclist who stopped to share stories with me. Every waiter who remarked upon my dirty helmet, every local who directed me to the best sandwich shop. Thousands and thousands of little kindness all pushing me forward. And there were also large kindnesses. The people who fed me and housed me and helped me when I or my bicycle were broken (if it wasn’t one of us falling apart, it was the other haha). 

On this journey, I felt like a trapeze artist flying from swing to swing. I found myself suspended above an impossible drop, but always I knew I could look forward, reach out my hand, and there would be another hand reaching back to me. I put infinite trust into the endless line of people willing to swing me across the next abyss, and that trust was never broken. I’m truly grateful. 

Hey, enough solemn melodramizing. This trip was also insanely fun. There are so many memories that I will cherish for the rest of my life, memories of unadulterated entertainment. Whether it be a day of beautiful riding, a steep downhill, a stiff tailwind, a delicious meal, an air-conditioned movie theater, all of these memories are wonderfully precious to me. 

Thank you all so much for following me this journey, thank you for following me on my lifelong journey. I hope to repay you with the same kindness. 

Buen Camino.