Chapter 29: Home

 Chapter 29: Home

 September 18, Thursday: 150 miles! (8272) 

 Work starts early on a farm, so the noise woke me up, and I was on the road by 5:30. It was still quite dark, and cold, but nothing like last week in the Yukon. A real treat to be riding before and during sunrise, and a treat the rest of the day just to be riding in the East, through familiar countryside. It's wonderful to see old things in a new way - to really appreciate seeing blue jays, starlings, cows, poison ivy, grasshoppers, maple trees, old-old farms and barns, chicory and other wildflowers, grapes, hardwood forests... I find it's comforting to ride among old, graceful hills, friendly and inviting, instead of jagged inhospitable mountains, to have towns every five or ten miles - old well-established towns, and to hear crickets in the fields.

It was not all roses, of course.  Being called a homophobic slur by some punk in a passing car was a rude reawakening; a reminder that not everyone in the world feels good about themselves. Bitter with the batter. Good day though. I bought some reflective tape, so I'd be more visible in the dark, and I rode till 9:30, which brought me to Blue Mountain Lake. I considered riding all night, but decided I didn't need to, and at the Adirondack Museum I found a comfortable place to sleep: a nicely contoured gutter at the back edge of the parking lot! 

 September 19, Friday: 95 miles (8367)

HARD, HARD day. My left knee was hurting from the start, and then the bike developed a serious mechanical problem. Something started breaking loose in the drivetrain whenever I put a lot of pressure on the pedals. At first I thought the free wheel was shot and was somehow disengaging. I envisioned having to weld the free wheel so that it would no longer be a *free* wheel and I would have to pedal constantly. It was quite a while before I discovered what the problem actually was: the teeth on the crank sprocket were so worn down that the chain could actually jump over them. I was impressed! 

You may recall that early in the trip, I took the front shifter off, making it a 5-speed bike instead of a 10-speed, because I found I wasn't using the higher gears anyway. The teeth on the inner gear started out the same shape as the outer teeth.

It finally got so bad that I either had to do something to fix it, or start walking up the hills. After some study, I realized that I could flip the sprocket over so that the worn teeth faced the other way, and that solved the problem.

The pain in my left knee also seemed to lessen a little bit by late afternoon, perhaps because I had been pedaling almost solely with my right leg. In Cambridge, NY this evening, I realized that I would make it home by tomorrow night, and happily called some friends to let them know. Again I was considering riding all night, but as I got off the phone, several cars full of drunk teenagers roared by, and I decided I might not want to be on the road. I chatted up the woman who was using the phone next to me who was also on a bike - an old three speed tank - and she led me to a great, funky household where the folks said I could sleep in the backyard as long as I didn't mind their kids' partying. I picked a spot under a clump of trees and sacked out on the grass.

Re-reading this, I realize that I've failed to convey the depth of the discouragement and despair and depression that I felt for most of the day ("'cause it's the laughter we'll remember.") Before I figured out what was wrong with the bike, and with my knee and bottom hurting terribly, I began to think I wouldn't make it. I pictured myself calling John and asking for a ride the rest of the way home, and I cried thinking about how that would feel, after so many miles, to have to ask for a ride. 

 September 20, 1980, Saturday: 105 miles (8472)

It's over. I'm home. I got up and started riding at 5:00 AM. It seemed fitting that I should end the trip battling a ferocious headwind all day, and Mother Nature saw to that, but otherwise I was blessed with beautiful weather - a misty blue New England morning and a warm fall day. My knee was still hurting, so I had to use it sparingly, and I couldn't stand up and pump at all. That meant I didn't make great time, but at about 6:00 this evening I arrived in Goshen, where 5 of my friends were waiting to greet me. Lots of hugs, and out for a celebratory pizza dinner. 

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I had made it to Alaska, made it up and down the Dempster along the way, and biked as much of the distance home as I could while still getting back in time for the weddings, so except perhaps for getting over Laura, I achieved pretty much every goal I had set for myself.  My emotions upon returning weren't quite what I expected, though. 

I thought I might be sad about the trip ending, but that part wasn't too hard. What I was not prepared for was how quickly it would feel like I had never left. Six months is an eternity on a bike trip, but the blink of an eye in a 9 to 5 workaday life. When I thought back on the person I was at the start of the trip, and who I was at the end, the change was significant. The challenge was how to hold on to that growth and shift of perspective, in the transition back to a "normal" day-to-day existence. 

I still had to decide what to do next with my life, and I still had to navigate trying to just be friends with "Laura." My heart was not magically mended, but then again, another 6 months at the Wilderness School or working construction wouldn't have mended it either, and that would have been a lot less memorable. So I guess the takeaway is that you might not be able to get a cure for a broken heart out of a bike trip, but if you can get a bike trip out of having a broken heart, that's a win.

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 Thanks for reading and especially for commenting, whether here, on facebook, or in person. For years, I have wanted to make something tangible from the photos, journals, and memories of this trip, but without the knowledge that people were following along, I don't think I would have had the discipline to get this project to the finish line.