Fw: Saturday July 19 Day 64 No Riding

The day began as the previous day had ended, poring over maps and searching the internet for a good route west from Pittsburgh. There were several options, but none was very appealing. In the night I had decided to give Myrtle to Gail as a thank you present and then she could turn Myrtle loose and both would be happier. Although I really liked having Myrtle with me I did have some regrets about taking her from her normal environment and had considered setting her free if I could find a good place. It turns out that Gail's yard is a good place for turtles and a number live in the adjacent woods and stream. So Myrtle is free.

I am starting this entry while sitting in the boarding area of the Pittsburgh airport. The decision to abandon an activity like a bike ride has an interesting asymmetry. One can, or perhaps even must, decide to continue, over and over again with each passing day, but the decision to abandon is a one time decision. You decide to quit. You act on your decision and it is over.
And so it happened for me. By 11:00 I had decided and called Beth. Within an hour and a half she had booked a flight for me, I had packed and Gail had called a taxi. It was almost stunningly fast.

As to reasons, there are those that are immediate and those that are longer term. Regarding the latter, I now realize that in the convoluted course that I had chosen, I had left the least interesting part of the country to the last. Most of the friends had been biked to and there were going to be long stretches with small rewards. I also found myself unable to bike as far in a day as I had anticipated. Further, the pleasures of being home had grown more enticing.

Perhaps the decision was made at this particular point because there is only one good way to enter and leave Pittsburgh on a bike and that is the way I came. By utilizing the 300 plus miles of trail north and west from Washington I had put myself in a place from which it was hard to go on, or at least so it seemed. This difficulty in continuing by way of the road system was no doubt exacerbated by the great pleasure it had been to ride free from the noise of motor vehicles. In a way the trails of the past six days had spoiled me as a highway rider. Also Pittsburgh is in a hilly place and they are steep hills. If you look at a road map you will find that about 100 miles west there are roads that run in straight lines. There are no such roads around Pittsburgh, because near Pittsburg the roads are winding all around following contours on the uneven land. In any case I had been vacillating about the idea of quiting for a while. The moment of decision came while I was reading an online commentary on biking west out of the city and it was full of places where caution would be required. There are in fact many places where, beyond not being reckless, there is no way to be cautious. In such places a biker can only hug the fog line and hope that the drivers are paying attention.

There was little emotion as I dismantled my bike, got it into its travel bag and said goodbye to Joanne's siblings. (I regret that I failed to take their picture.) However, in the waiting area of the airport a TV was showing some skate boarders competing in a half tube event at the X Games. These young athletes were propelling themselves into the air, gyrating wildly and returning to the surface with breath taking grace. Seeing them brought my first moment of mild remorse over my decision to abandon what had been a very long time aspiration. Later as I sat in my seat, 35,000 feet above the passing land, I was still feeling a bit down in the dumps. Then it occurred to me that if I still wanted to be on a bike ride, in stead of changing planes in Vegas I could just bike home from there. There were still plenty of miles to do and it would be in country that was more appealing. That thought cured my melancholy in an instant. Regrettable though it may be that I did not accomplish what I had hoped, I am now ready to be home.

Did any learning go on?

The next to last day on the trail I checked my odometer against the mile markers and found that it was recording speed and distances about 10% higher than what was actually happening. Adjusting for this I rode in all about 2,400 miles. I was disappointed that I couldn't do more miles per day. I had expected to match the 90 and 100 mile days I had done on my trip to Wyoming in the early 90's. Thus the vanity that I had not aged over that time took a hit. It was very clear, and a bit unexpected that companionship mattered, even while riding. Also I learned that there is a better kind of riding than just riding to cover distance. It is a ride that allows for or even is designed to absorb and appreciate what is available along the way. Finally the last piece of riding that I did, getting from the trail to Gail's house, involved climbing a very long, steep hill, on what everyone from Pittsburgh was calling a really hot day, riding a bike with gear that weighed in at the airport the following day at 75 pounds. It was tough. I did not stop until I reached the top. I am not the toughest and I am not as tough as I liked to fancy myself, but I guess maybe I am medium tough. That's OK.

It's nice to be home although we sure have a lot of stuff. I'm feeling a bit of culture shock. The road demands a simplicity of living that is not a bad thing. Maybe I should read again that first chapter of Waldon Pond.

I suppose this is the place where I am to write, The End. As I am finding that nearly impossible to do, it makes me realize how much pleasure has come from the exercise of recording all this. I am most grateful to any and all who have looked in and especially to those who have commented either on the blog itself or separately. I will try to post as an addendum the 2007 letter that was being delivered.

The End