The Road Les Pedaled

November 7, 2009

I have been in the biggest funk all week.  I'm not sure why.  Maybe some post-trip letdown or something.  I haven't been able to snap out of it yet.  I'm going for my first ride since the tour tomorrow morning, so maybe that'll help clear my mind and get me back down to earth.

In looking back on my first tour experience, here are a few things I've been reflecting on.

The people in the small towns of Georgia are amazing.  I've never in my life been so accepted with wide open arms by people I'd never met.  Even though I was alone, it seemed like I had a support system because everywhere I went I had people offer to help me, to drive me, to save me, to give me a place to stay.  That experience really made me ask myself...would I do the same?  If I met a woman in a restaurant who basically said to me I'm traveling here for the first time, tell me about where you live, would I ask her to sit down at my table and join me for a meal?  Would I offer her a ride to a location 60 miles away?  Would I tell her to call me if she had any sort of trouble whatsoever?  Would I invite her to stay in my house for as long as she needed?  Sadly, even though I'm a bit ashamed to admit it, I think the answers are all a resounding no.  I don't really buy into all the fear that's being dealt to everyone all the time...I never would have gone on this trip if I had...but I'm also not nearly as giving and selfless as these people I met.  I attribute it to the small town mentality.  There's just something that exists there that I haven't been around in a long time, and it's like a breath of fresh air.  I hope that I can grab ahold of some of that mentality and never let go.

Even though I successfully completed this tour, I was so fortunate that nothing went mechanically wrong with The Ranger.  If it had I would have been forced to adopt the Blanche Dubois strategy of relying on the kindness of strangers.  I really need to spend more time educating myself on bike maintenance before I do this again, particularly if it's solo.

And speaking of solo, I've asked myself several times this past week if I would go solo again.  I'm not exactly sure of the answer to that.  I'm so glad I did it for my first trip though.  It was almost like a rite of passage.  It was just something I had to do to prove to myself that I could.  It got a bit tiresome, all the people asking me why I would do that or how could my husband let me do that, etc.  My blanket response to why I am I doing this pretty quickly became "because I can".  For the most part being alone didn't bother me.  I really enjoyed being self-sufficient and structuring my days and nights so that I could take care of business.  The part where I started craving companionship was when I was actually on the road.  I don't listen to music or anything while I'm riding because I personally think it's a safety hazard.  So when you're by yourself on backroads time really can go by slowly.  It's hard to not look at your computer to see what mile you're on or how much time has elapsed. 

It's hard for me to imagine doing a self-supported tour and camping instead of the credit card style.  That's more gear that I'd have to carry!  I can't imagine doing without some of the amenities that hotel/motel life provide.  Some of the best parts of my trip were just relaxing in the tub or enjoying the continental breakfast or watching the Weather Channel...not to mention just the isolation of solo camping.

One of my fantasies has been to do a cross-country tour.  I've asked myself since I've been back after having a week-long tour do I think I could do it for ten or twelve weeks.  One of my problems on the tour was that with having to carry a load, this trip was probably a bit beyond my physical capabilities, and because of that it became more of a focus on completing each day's ride.  I really wasn't able to stop and smell the roses, so to speak.  It was all about survival.  I made the mistake of doing absolutely zero training carrying a load.  I would have to make sure if I did an extended tour of multiple weeks that I devoted the proper amount of time to training and nutrition so that I'd be physically prepared.  That way I'd be able to enjoy the tour for what it is meant to be...sightseeing!  So if I were to do a cross-country tour, I think I'd spend the big bucks for a fully supported tour where the goal is comfort and companionship, lower daily mileages, more rest days, etc.  I'm thinking about it for the year I turn 50, which is right around the corner!

I wish I had rigged some sort of microphone hooked up to a recorder while I was riding.  I would think of so many different things I wanted to include in the blog, but then never could remember any of them later.  Someone needs to come up with some kind of system for no-handed note-taking/recording so that someone like me with a crappy memory can track of all the crazy noteworthy thoughts that cross my mind when I'm riding.

So when is the next one?  Good question.  I'm contemplating a fundraising ride from December 12-17.  I have the vacation days and all systems are go...it's just SO soon and I'd have to raise a lot of money in such a short time and it's a lot of miles each day.  Of course it would be supported, so no loads!  Sometimes I think I'm just going to continue procrastinate until it really is too late, and I'm not sure why.  I really do think it's all part of my post-ride blues.  I'm hoping that will evaporate tomorrow morning as I gather with some friends for a flat 42-mile ride and I'll get off the fence one way or another about it.  I'll keep you posted.