Bitter Sweet

Day 99. Rodd Crowbush to Elmira. 69 mi. 6001 miles TTD. 1484 feet elevation.

It’s been difficult to even write this post, much less live it. For the last 99 days, I’ve had a very simple focus: pedal, find food, and find a place to sleep. That might seem boring, but sometimes having a very simple objective/goal each day is reassuring and comforting. Some of the daily goals also felt like accomplishments – like a 110-mile and 5,000 vertical foot day, or finishing 99 days of riding 6,000 mi. However, the lesson I learned again is not so much the accomplished event as the value of simple persistence in turning the pedals over and over.

The other thing I learned is the joy of companionship. This lesson was learned by not having companions with me on the trail, except sporadically, and then being blessed to have my family ride the last five days to the finish with me. They wonderfully welcomed me and cheered me into Elmira at kilometer 273 of the Confederation Trail. My family made me such a celebrity at the finish that other riders who were there when I arrived had to ask what was going on, likely thinking I was Lance Armstrong, but unlike Lance, I did it without steroids. I was fueled by A&W root beer and Cheezies.

Someone else probably thinks they have a wonderful family, but mine is the most wonderful. They flew across the country and three time zones to join me. As we rode each day, we would typically segregate into groups. I was fortunate to ride with each and all of them. Although I usually only saw the front pack as I was coming back from dropping off the car, they were racing ahead of everyone. Riding with each and every one of them was a great joy and not just because I’ve been alone so long. They are amazing, fun, and very interesting people. I love them.

In St. Paul, we stopped at a trail visitor center. There, we obtained the coveted tip-to-tip certificate for riding from the western tip of the island to the eastern tip of the island. We took the certificates with us to present our own award to each person on the trip.

Personally, I thought the last day was some of the prettiest riding. The forest was thick on either side, and when it wasn’t, there were incredible vistas, often including inlets of the ocean. Of course, the real beauty of the ride was getting to pedal in packs that were fun and fast as we drafted one another. I would even say that we, as an adult group, experienced swing.

No doubt the awards were not quite as good this year since Gloria wasn’t present. However, with the help of all the adults, we came up with some good ones for the well-deserving kids who participated in the ride. I suspect we were likely one of the biggest families ever to ride the trail, and that we had some of the youngest ever to ride it.

I love the award ceremony each year. The kids seem to love it too and ask about it at the beginning of the ride every year. Being named the most mature, beast mode, or encourager seems to be very important to the kids. I love how they come up smiling to receive their award from me, as everyone applauds. Gloria would undoubtedly be very proud of her posterity.

Miraculously, or in reality, because of a wire seatbelt, Gumby made the entire ride with me. That was just one of many firsts for me on this ride. I’m still sifting through the endless memories of beautiful scenery, kind people, and pedaling many miles. Hopefully, I will, at the very least, continue to apply my three goals each day, which made this trip far more uplifting and enjoyable for me. One: help someone smile, two: engage in conversation with someone new, and three: serve someone.