About 2,500 miles and it seems like 100 years ago, we ran into a British couple. They were riding the Divide south to north as we went north to south. We stopped and chatted with them outside Seeley Lake, Montana. As we talked we noticed a ukulele on the back of the woman’s bike. When asked why she brought it, she responded that she wanted to learn how to play it. She thought there would be plenty of time each day for practice. She also admitted she still had not learned to play it even though she was almost to Canada. My point in sharing this story is to make an excuse for my lack of blogs other than picture blogs. It’s surprising how after riding a bike most of the day that just getting your act back together for the next day is about all you can accomplish. Which, by the way, is one of the great joys of this trip. Despite my failure to put words on paper I have had many words in my head. Something easy to do while pedaling a bike most of the day.
Traveling across a country on a bicycle for 2 months, mostly dirt roads in the backcountry, would seem to be quite adventurous. Unfortunately, I’ve noted that most of the riders are constantly looking for ways to avoid the adventure while continuing the journey. Something that I think might be a symptom of a bigger societal problem. Let me explain.
In Canada I sent my set of paper maps home. I didn’t need them. I have the electronic version. I turn on my phone, open the app each morning and look for the blue dot (us) and the pink line (the route). My daily navigational task is simple: keep the blue dot on the pink line. With my finger I can put “pins” on the route to determine distances and even a route profile (how much up and down). I could be traveling east on my way south to Mexico for all I know, but as long as the dot is on the line I don’t care. No map adventures of figuring out which direction and which road to take. No adventure.
With SMS, social media and blogs we also know what’s ahead. In Cuba, NM we got SMS from our friend Michelle one day ahead of us. She told us to take an alternate route after she had ridden a rough section. When we rode out of Breckenridge, Michelle stayed behind after looking at a weather report: high winds. Weather, road conditions, where to camp, find water or eat is up to the minute real time information available to riders. We would ride into places and know more about it than people living there. No adventure.
Most riders also carry a Spot. While they’re riding others know exactly where they are at any given time. Using satellite connection they are never out of touch. They can send an SMS to update family even from the most remote locations. In an emergency they can hit a button on their Spot and get rescued. No adventure.
This picture of my grandson going down a waterslide says it all. He’s not sure how it will feel. He doesn’t know how fast he will go. He doesn’t know what it’s like to hit water flying off the end of the slide. He isn’t even sure his dad will catch him after he hits the water. But down he goes with some fear and a great sense of adventure.
Some of our family and friends were adamant that we take a Spot. I chose to go without. It wasn’t a choice of trying to add risk, or adventure but one of knowing the risks and believing we could manage them. Going “into the woods” is risky. In part, that is why we go into the woods. We prepare the best we can, but not knowing exactly what risks there will be is part of the adventure. Knowing everything about the journey, and being able to hit a button to be whisked from the journey is anathema to adventure. I think that is problematic on an even bigger scale.
My wife married me not knowing all the risks (there were many) and she didn’t get a
Spot issued at the wedding. Just being with another person full time – on a bike ride or not – is difficult as unknowns surface. We never brandish about the divorce “button” even when the unknowns became almost overwhelming difficulties on the marriage journey. How could anyone know all the risks and unknowns of marriage and children? So I wonder if our culture provides so much information about so many things, that people are increasingly afraid to take on the unknowns, and real adventures like marriage and children?
My amazing wife, who couldn’t tell you the difference between a mountain and road bike, chose to continue OUR journey by joining me on MY “dream” ride: endless unknowns for her. The first week, when she struggled and repeatedly fell on difficult single track in Canada, she could have used the “button” if it were in her possession or her mentality. But it’s not. She prayed, gritted her teeth and rode on. Eventually, it got better, but not because she knew everything that was ahead. It became better as we figured out together, and with lots of prayer, how to better address the unknowns and risks. Just like we have done with many other adventures. Together, we have had and look forward to many wonderful adventures.
Grumpy Grandpa's Great Bicycling Adventures 