True Love

“No matter what anyone says, it’s much worse to be unloved than it is to be lost in the woods.” Charles M. Schulz

My friends and family have been grateful over the years, that most of my adventures have been solo. My wife, on the other hand, has been stuck, not on my adventures, but running my shuttle. As everyone repeatedly tells me, she is a saint and I completely agree. She would drop me off and then drive to some proposed rendezvous.  There she would wait faithfully and lovingly with a map in one hand and my life insurance policy in the other. I didn’t blame her. She deserved something if I didn’t come back. For my part, I wore bright colored clothing so my body was more likely to be found and life insurance would pay.

So, as I began formalizing my plans to ride the Divide, I assumed that it would be similar to past trips. Granted, the drop off in Canada and pick up in Mexico would be a bit further apart, but she could visit her family in Alberta after leaving me in Banff. Also, Antelope Wells was an actual real “place” for the pick up: not one of my obscure rendezvous points on a map. Even if I didn’t quite find my way exactly to Antelope Wells, I could follow the Mexican Border East or West and find it and my wife…eventually. Then my wife informed me she was coming with me.

Likely it was her concern that in the 2700 miles of wilderness trail, it might be difficult to find my body, especially if it were eaten by a grizzly bear. My first response was that I could meet her where the trail entered towns. She could drive a van. Sure, it would add some cost, but I envisioned a fancy sleeper van with stove, fridge, lawn chairs under an awning: the works. At the end of a long ride it would be wonderful to have her there waiting with a “room”. After looking at van prices, and alternatively trying to simultaneously lay in the back of our Subaru, she informed me she would be coming with me, on a bike.

My wife is quite fit, but mountain bike riding is not part of her fitness routine. She grew up on a ranch in Alberta with horses not bikes. Plus, I was concerned that friends and family would assume she was coerced rather than choosing to ride with me. I’m pretty accustomed to “your wife is a saint”, “you’re lucky she married you”, and “why does she stay with you?”. However, I wasn’t ready for a legal battle with family trying to protect her from me. Unconcerned, with my social and legal standing, my wife continued to inform me she would be coming with me, on a bike.

My son, Logan, solved almost all my problems by simply suggesting: “have her ride an ebike”. In addition to being an ebike advocate and expert, he is also mindful of my social standing as he bears the same last name. My wife enthusiastically agreed and immediately shortened her “training schedule”. My training schedule remained lengthy and unchanged, but I thought it was still a wonderful solution.

Within a couple weeks we converted her new mountain bike into an e-bike. She was immediately able to ride with me: ok, mostly in front of me. In fact, our rides together have given us an ever increasing amount of time together. Albeit with somewhat different attitudes: she motors into the wind with a smile, while I curse and moan. It appears to be a great solution for putting us together on the trail. The only remaining problem is locating 110V outlets in the thousands of square miles of empty wilderness we’ll be traversing. But for now, we’re together and learning about batteries.