A Case for Going Solo

I like to bicycle alone. Not everyone does. Many people need others to talk to so they are not lonely. That is one thing people often worry about. They ask me if I ever get lonely. Sure, I do. But there are so many people in the world and people I meet that I am usually never truly alone. Cycling alone through the country has it's pros and cons, but for me, I focus on the large amount of pros rather than the few cons. Even when I am riding my bike around my home town I usually tend to ride alone. Although I have recently met a girl who likes to ride her bike and have gone on a few rides with her which was very nice. It is a nice change of pace that way. To be sure, I am not against traveling in a small group or with another person.

If I find a friend or meet a girl who likes to ride and get married, then I would love to bicycle the country and the world with her. But for now, I cycle alone, and here's why: I am on my own schedule. That is the gist of it. All other reasons usually fall into that category. I am the only person I can count on. I can leave when I want, get up when I want, eat when I want. I can go as slow or as fast as I want, and I am a fairly slow rider and I take a lot of breaks. I take pictures and meet people. As a solo cyclist, I am easier to approach. I am less threatening than if I were in a group or even with one other person. It is easier to offer accommodation and food. People are intrigued more when they see me. They want to know why I am doing what I am doing. People tend to want to live vicariously through my adventures.

Cycling solo has its challenges too. I am perhaps more vulnerable out there. Cycling through the Nevada Desert last year my bike broke down and I was alone in the heat of the desert wondering what my next move was. Had I been with someone else, the comfort alone that I someone was with me would be enough to lift my spirits. But alone, I have to think myself. Two heads are better than one right? But cycling alone teaches me to rely on myself and no one else. Don't get me wrong, I talk to and pray to God all the time and He helps me out in dire situations. Also, sometimes I wish I was with someone so they could experience this too. The scenery, the wilderness, the vast views of God's creation are amazing and sometimes I wish I could experience it with someone, so someone else can see it. Pictures cannot do these places justice, but they will have to do, and I take a lot of photos. When I get sick on the road, it would be nice to have someone else there, but when I get a dizzy spell, no one else understands and others try to diagnose it and ask too many questions. Alone, I know what to do however grim it may be. And yes, cycling alone can be dangerous, but so can cycling with other people.

Therefore, solo bicycle touring isn't for everyone. I happen to enjoy myself. I leave early in the morning and go where I want. The following is an article from a solo touring cyclist and how he likes to cycle. This is but one way to do. Some of my ways overlap with his, but many are different. There are many ways to travel alone and many places to travel alone. How you do it is up to you. But I will say this, if you usually bicycle or travel with a friend, spouse or group, I urge you to give solo a try. I believe everyone should travel, or bicycle travel alone at least once. If you like it, great. If not, find your partner again. But give it a go; you may be surprised at what happens. Happy bicycling.

A few things about being a solo tour cyclist.

by Traveling Claus (www.travelingclaus.com)

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Here I go again on my own with my bike.

I have been a solo tour cyclist in more than 30 countries and here are a few of my thoughts about being a solo tour cyclist around the world.

I like cycling alone.

Me, myself and my bicycle.

For me, tour cycling is a kind of meditation, where I slow down big time mentally and this is so much easier when you do not have someone who wants you to go either faster or slower. I am in general quite happy about being alone and it does not motivate me more to cycle in a group. I cycle slow, but I am so stubborn that I always reach my goal no matter what, so I do not need a group of people in order to cycle a few thousand kilometers.

I like being able to have my own weird routines.

I cycle slow and take my rests and i can do this as a solo tour cyclist.

I have some routines, or maybe more lack of routines that tend to make most other tour cyclists shake their heads. I like getting up late in the morning and then spend a couple of hours having breakfast, while I am reading, checking e mails and such before I hit the road. When I hit the road, I am often cycling very slow and taking many breaks. But I tend to spend many hours on the road every day, so I get my 75 to 100 kilometers in the end, but I do things a little different, because I do not really like speed and my bicycle trips are not some illusion that I am on some macho trip that I call an expedition, in order to impress other people. I cycle around the world, cause I think iy is fun and not to prove something to the world.

I am not lonely as a solo tour cyclist.

I’m a social cyclist.

I am a person who needs both my alone time and my social time and for that reason, being a solo tour cyclist is perfect for me. I spend most of the day in the saddle, all by myself with my thoughts and then at night I stay in a town where I head out to meet some random strangers I come across there. I am a person who likes to walk in to a bar in an unknown town all by myself, cause I am good at striking up a conversation with people and is in general a very open person and I find that it’s harder to do that when you are two or more, cause people assume that you then want you privacy, while a guy who is on his own is easier to approach.

Accommodation as a solo tour cyclist.

My bicycle in a hotel room.

I am mostly staying in smaller roadside hotels, guest houses and so on, when I am tour cycling around the world. If I am in northern Europe or in USA/Canada, then I often camp, because of the price of accommodation and the camp sites at US state parks and state beaches, often have a hiker/biker area, which is not just cheap, but usually also a very social place, where you can hang out with a few other solo tour cyclists. But I am not the kinda guy who camps wild. I simply have no desire to sit alone in my tent the whole evening and talk to myself and my bike. And I am not happy to walk in to town if camping wild as your stuff is a lot more at risk of getting stolen, if you camp in some unofficial place, where there is zero staff looking after the place.

Is tour cycling alone dangerous?

The world is fortunately a very friendly place.

I have cycled tens of thousands of kilometers over the years in countries like Syria, Mexico, Brazil, Albania, Lebanon, Cambodia, just to mention a few places and I have never had a situation where I thought that I was in danger because I was alone. I had one situation in Vietnam 14 years ago, where I was attacked with rocks, but that was not because I was alone, but because I made a wrong move at the wrong time and this situation would most likely have happened even if I had been in a group. I got away from the situation though without having anything stolen. I just got a few bruises because of the rocks they threw after me, but it had nothing to do with being alone.

My final verdict about tour cycling alone.

Cycling the world is the best.

In my opinion, it’s perfectly suitable to tour the globe alone by bicycle, but it’s all about how you are as a person. Some people need another person in order to not give up, or not be bored on the road for instance and it’s the best option for these people to bike together with other people.

But talking for myself, I am really happy about touring on my own and I am totally happy if I find a girlfriend who does not care about cycling, as long as she is ok with me doing it and I will have no worries if she prefers to take the bus or the train between the towns while I cycle. This is just the way I am and I’m damn happy with it.

Happy cycling everyone.

Happy cycling everyone, whether you are a solo tour cyclist, or with someone else

How Does it feel when the Journey is Over?

 How Does it feel when the Journey is Over?

I’m interested in the aftermath of expeditions. We all daydream about doing trips – that is fun. It’s pretty obvious what we enjoy about being away on adventures, the actual time spent out in the wild. But what people do not often think about is what happens after the journey is over. How does it feel to finish a journey? Does it guarantee happiness and satisfaction? It’s a huge topic and one I personally have spent many years pondering. I hope that this post will get a few thoughts stirring amongst anyone planning a big trip, or decompressing afterwards.
Charlie Walker has done lots of big adventures. I collared him the moment he finished cycling 43,000 miles round the world and asked him five quick questions. I then asked him the same questions after 6 months and a year to see how perspective and thoughts change over time.

• How does it feel to know you have cycled round the world?
• How does it feel now the biggest adventure of your life is over?
• What’s your plan for the next month?
• What impact has cycling round the world had on your life?
• What next? (My most-hated question!)

Here are his replies:

1. I haven’t really done that. I’ve sort of cycled on the world. But it feels as though I can now trivialise relatively smaller challenges or problems in life.

2. It feels surprisingly normal and just sort of fine really. I was increasingly ready to come home for the last few months and had plenty of time to try and get my head straight before arriving.

3. Take lots of showers, make old friends and find a way to earn some money.

4. It’s made me patient. Long periods of time are shorter than they used to be.

5. Write a book, stare at maps and daydream.

6 months later:

1. I feel certainly more confident than I used to. I now feel I can do pretty much anything I set my mind to. But it also feels a bit like a faint dream that seems sweeter the more faint it becomes.

2. I might cheekily circumvent that by saying that the longest adventure of my life is over but it may not prove my biggest. For the first few weeks after returning I was ecstatic to be back but then a couple of months of itchy-footedness and anticlimax set in. With a little more distance now, I feel happy, proud of myself and excited to see where it takes me.

3. Continue work on my first book when I can find time amongst my busy 9-6 job.

4. I hope I’m more worldly and patient but do get fed up of being introduced as “Charlie who cycled around the world”.

5. Develop my writing, give more talks at schools and the like while spinning the globe until I land on the next adventure idea.

A year after the trip was over:

1. Increasingly distant. It’s actually something I’m slightly embarrassed to talk about it social situations. Fearful of sounding like a broken record.

2. I feel that the longest adventure of my life is over but hopefully not the biggest, nor the most challenging.

3. Send my first manuscript to publishers and continue giving talks at schools.

4. I feel very confident but now struggle to feel fulfilled in everyday life. Adventure and “normality” – it’s a balance we’re all trying to strike.

5. Something chilly in Russia… but the plans are still a secret!

Here are my own (Penn's) thoughts: Approaching the journey - the planning and training, the pouring over maps, etc. is what is fun to me. Planning for a journey, especially a bicycle journey is half the fun. It is also where anxiousness sets in and second thoughts, but eventually the trip happens and the first few days and week is grueling, but you're out there living...actually living. This is what you were meant to do. Then the challenges hit, you get discouraged and you fight to stay in this...and you do. The sun comes out the other side and you conquer and grow and stand steadfast. Soon after, you realize you are almost home. The journey is almost nigh. It happens so fast. It creeps up so quickly. Home is beckoning. Part of you wishes to sleep in your bed, see your family again and rest, but the other part longs for the unending road...you don't want the journey to end. The day you arrive back at your door you are relieved that you actually made it. You rejoice with your friends and family, clean your body and bike, unpack and deodorize your belongings, eat a big meal, and then sleep, sleep, sleep...ah, you are home and the next day you don't have to ride 75 miles. You can relax. A few days later you may service your bicycle, take it out for a few short rides before returning home again...and again...and yet again. You go back to work, watch TV, read books, order gifts, and looking out your office window with a longing daydream. It's only been a week or maybe even a few days and you long for the open road once again, but you realize your next adventure will have to wait. Sadness sets in. But it doesn't have to be that way. Take some friends and sleep on a hill...have a microadventure. Bicycle, hike, camp and enjoy your time that is given to you.

How does it feel when the journey is over? I have made it a tradition to get a DQ Blizzard on returning home after each of my bicycle treks. That is one sign that I have returned home...one sign that the journey is over. How does it feel? Well, it feels good, but it also feels sad. How does it truly feel when the journey is over? Well, to be honest, the journey is never quite over. Friends live vicariously through my adventures and I am asked about the trips throughout the year. The journey is relived and continues when I finally sit down and write my blog and hash out my journal entries... The journey continues and before I know it I am planning, training and setting a date for my next journey out in the world...

If there weren't any challenges, I would have stayed home

As the late Susannah McCorkle put it in one of her memorable recordings, "It Ain't Safe To Go Nowhere Anymore."

If there were not any challenges, I would stay home. If there weren't any challenges, if it was a breeze, what would be the point? Without challenges, how do we grow? Where do we stretch ourselves if it is so easy?

I mean, adventure is adventure. In an early post, I mentioned that most people want the adventure without the adventure. They want the adventure, but they do not want the risk, danger, and unknown. They want to know where they are going, where they are going to sleep, what they will eat, what's right around the next corner, etc. Adventure without the adventure.

With adventure risk is involved and that is that. With every adventure, challenges rise up. If there weren't any challenges, I would have stayed home. That's pure and simple. However, on the other hand, if I knew exactly what was going to happen. If I knew I was going to encounter a severe thunderstorm in the second week or if I was going to be climbing through the mountains in 100 degree heat for days or if I knew I was going to encounter flat tire after flat tire and my bike will break down every day or if I run out of food and water...well then, if I knew all that, I would also stay home. That is why there is an element of the unknown in the definition of adventure.

I have been alone in the desert, I have climbed for days in the mountains, burned in 100 degree heat with little water, traveled 100 miles with nothing but warm water, been lost on forest service roads and gravel country roads and have been guided through military zones where I didn't belong. I have been honked at, run off the road, yelled at, ridden on roads with nothing but a rumble strip on the shoulder or no shoulder at all, been pulled over by police motorcycles, been caught on the Interstate with no other route to cycle on. I have been caught in many thunderstorms and freezing temperatures, exposed to the elements, I have been riding through severe headwinds that blow me off the road, caught in lightning storms, pounding rain and hail. I have been lonely, hungry and thirsty. I have gone without sleep, wandering a city at night until dawn. I have been turned down at the last minute by hospitality hosts who changed their minds. I was stopped by a wildfire. I have almost lost my bicycle into the Pacific Ocean down a cliff. I have been offered weed and drugs. I have been stranded in the desert with a broken down bicycle. I was almost killed by traffic, almost run off an interstate bridge by a semi truck and have seen my life flash before my eyes, my bicycle pump was stolen which was my lifeline...I have known challenges, I have been unsafe, I have been in dangerous situations...

All these things my friends, encompass ADVENTURE...

However, I have also been helped along the way...helped by many strangers. Never underestimate the kindness of strangers. They will surprise you and at times you cannot help but rely on them. People want to help other people. I could tell you stories of Joe who picked me up in Idaho, of Troy & his wife Laurie who saw me drenched at a gas station in Utah, of Karen and her husband who gave me a ride through a canyon in Arizona, of Katie who took me in for a night in California, of Mike who rescued me from the wildfires and roadblocks in Oregon, of Molly who helped me in Colorado, of Mark and Bob who helped me in the middle of the Nevada Desert. I could go on and explain many more "Angels of the Road." I think you get the picture. Life is an adventure with ups and with downs and with angels. When the adventure seems dire, an angel comes and helps. God is good indeed. He has kept me safe and I trust He will continue to do so on subsequent trips. I believe I will encounter more dangers and more uncertain situations. I may even become discouraged again, but life is about living and God is in control. God is God and I am not. I must bring Him along.

If there weren't any challenges, I would have stayed home...on my couch where there is no danger.

But that isn't living...

Defining Adventure

What comes to mind when you think about adventure? I suppose everyone defines adventure differently. Is adventure comfortable? Is it uncomfortable? I say life is an adventure, but what are true adventures? You know - the ones the greats have admonished. The ones that are spoken of. The ones that are wowed! What is adventure anyhow? Perhaps who has said it best is Willie Weir of Adventure Cycling in his travel memoir Travels with Willie. The following are his words in which I agree fully. Adventure is risky, dangerous and unknown. A vacation is comfort, relaxation and renewal. Read on and see if you agree with this definition of adventure.

WHAT IS ADVENTURE?

Is it harder to define it or live it?

by Willie Weir

Adventure. It is one of my favorite words in the English language. The mention of it conjures up vivid images and experiences. It gets my heart pumping and my adrenaline rushing. Sadly though, my favorite word is being used so often it is in danger of becoming a cliché. The automobile industry promises adventure with every SUV they sell. Dating services promise adventure and lifelong love, and the tourism industry uses adventure to charge more for a package deal. So what is adventure?

The American Heritage Dictionary defines the noun adventure as: 1.a. An undertaking or enterprise of a hazardous nature. b. An undertaking of a questionable nature, especially one involving intervention in another state’s affairs. 

 

Webster’s Revised Unabridged Dictionary defines the verb adventure as: 1.To risk,or hazard; jeopard; to venture. 2. To venture upon; to run the risk of; to dare. No dictionary I checked defined adventure without using the words risk or hazard. 

 

If I accept dictionary definitions of adventure, I must then conclude that the adventure travel industry is rarely about adventure. It is about the exotic, the extravagant. It is all about catered meals and scheduled events.

I worked as a bicycle tour guide for four years and I loved it. Loved the people, loved the scenery, loved the food (and had the extra pounds to prove it). Loved the cycling. Was it an adventure? In my opinion, undoubtedly, no. My guests knew when they were going to get up, what they were going to have for breakfast, and how many miles they’d have to ride before eating. They knew that a cold beer would be waiting at the hotel or bed-and-breakfast, what pricey restaurant they’d be dining in that evening, and, if I had spare time, that their luggage would be waiting for them in a room with a view. 

 

Most people want adventure without the risks, hazards, and discomforts. In other words, most people want adventure without the adventure. In the tourism industry, this type of travel is often referred to as “soft adventure” or “adventure lite.” Guests are paying premium dollars for their adventure to be scheduled, organized, and safe. I have heard more than one adventure travel guide joke that it is his or her job to make sure their guests don’t have an adventure because if they do, more often than not, they want their money back. And, if they have an extreme adventure, they’ll sue.

How do you know when you’re in the midst of an adventure? Ask yourself these questions: Am I beyond my comfort zone? Am I pushing my physical limits? And, am I taking a risk? If you answer no to all of these questions, chances are you are not on an adventure. When was the last time you read a best-selling adventure travel narrative by someone who went on a guided or catered tour? If, on every night of your travels, you are drinking a cold beer, eating wonderful food, and sleeping in a comfortable bed, you’re on vacation. And that’s okay. Sometimes a bike trip is simply just a wonderful vacation. By the way, the American Heritage Dictionary defines vacation as: A period of time devoted to pleasure, rest, or relaxation, especially one with pay granted to an employee.

Adventure is hard to define and even harder to quantify. Adventure for one individual is routine for another. You can’t categorize adventure by the activity. Is cycling packed and unsupported an adventure? Is riding unburdened on an organized trip a vacation? Not necessarily.

Years ago I was leading a cushy trip through the San Juan Islands. I had just finished fitting my last rider to his rental bike, and I noticed one of my guests was trying to get my attention. She waited for everyone to leave and then approached me. She looked up at me and asked, “How do you work this thing?”

I would have laughed, but I saw the fear in her eyes. She went on to explain that she hadn’t been on a bike since she was five years old. She had taken this trip to force herself to leap over her fear.

I took her out to the parking lot of the bed-and-breakfast and taught her how to shift the gears and work the brakes. The next morning, I passed her in the van as she pedaled to the ferry dock. She was as exuberant as a five-year-old.

Same trip, different experiences. Her fellow guests were on vacation. She was on an adventure.

Many people say, “Every time I ride my bike, I’m on an adventure.” Using the concept of adventure to describe every moment in the saddle cheapens it. See adventure as something that’s not so easily attained, as something to strive for.

For many years, I have used facing a fear as my a yardstick for adventure. I don’t limit this to the physical fears of danger and travel, but to emotional fears, cultural fears, and spiritual fears as well.

In 1991, I was taking a train to San Diego to begin a bike trip across the southern United States. I had cycled across the northern United States in 1981 and had pedaled 6,400 miles across Canada in 1988. I was ready for another adventure.

But there was no fear. I knew I could do the mileage, climb the passes, and deal with the heat. How was this going to be an adventure?

I finally admitted to myself that my fear lay farther south — in Mexico. I was horrified of traveling in a country where I didn’t know the language. I quickly changed my plans and pedaled across the border. My adventure ended five months later in Guatemala, and the rest of the world opened up.

If I had defined adventure as encompassing every moment I spent on the bike, I’d probably still not own a passport. I’d be perfectly content to pedal within the boundaries of North America.

My personal definition of adventure has pushed me to pedal into the homelands of South Africa when everyone told me a white man would lose his life there. It has caused me to push my cultural limits in small villages in India. It has challenged me to see Bosnia when troop

trucks and tanks patrolled the countryside. And it has prodded me to spend three months in Cuba even though my government said I couldn’t.

What is adventure? I’m sure my answer will change as I grow older and, hopefully, wiser. I hope my sense of adventure will continue to challenge me.

By definition, adventure isn’t easy. Personally, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I know that many people will disagree with my take on adventure. What’s yours? Want to share and discuss it with

other members of the Adventure Cycling Association? It is our first name after all. Log on to www.adventurecycling.org and click on Forums/General Discussion. There you will find the discussion topic,

“What is adventure?” Add your opinions. Let’s have an enormous cyber conversation about adventure. You might agree with me one hundred percent, or you might think this should be the last column I write for this magazine.

There are over 40,000 members in the Adventure Cycling Association, and I’ll bet there are just as many definitions of adventure. Let’s hear yours.

Whereas, after reading Willie's definition of adventure and what he deems adventurous, I couldn't help but notice the irony when it comes to the Adventure Cycling Association in which he endorses. This is what I mean: The ACA is dedicated to support bicycle travel and encourage more and more people to travel by bicycle. I believe in their mission. However, I often disagree with their approach and definition of adventure. The ACA produces a series of maps of their cross country bicycle routes and describe everything along the way, where to stay, bicycle shops, terrain, distance, elevation, etc. They are fabulous maps. However, they spell everything out for you along the way. To me, that is not adventure. Where is the element of unknown? Where is the sense of adventure? If you know all these things before you even hit the road, where is the risk? The same thing with their expensive organized tours. Some people like them if they have the money and that may be the route to go if you are a beginner, but again, it is not adventure. Like Willie said, most people want the adventure without the adventure.

So, how do you define adventure? I am sure it differs from mine. Regardless, go out and choose your own adventure.

""Adventure, whether physical or mental, implies breaking into un-penetrated ground, venturing beyond the boundary of normal aptitude, extending oneself to the limit of capacity, courageously facing peril. Life without the chance for such exertions would be for many persons a dreary game, scarcely bearable in its horrible banality."
- Bob Marshall

I Never Claimed to Be Brave

Journeys by bicycle. Bicycle rides. Riding on two wheels. I like to ride bikes. Do you want to go ride bikes? Hey, that sounds like a fun summer activity. Let's go for a ride next weekend providing the weather holds out. It's a nice day for a bike ride. The parks are beautiful this time of year. I'm too scared to ride in the street. Let's ride on the sidewalk. Or...better yet, let's ride the opposite way in the bike lane! But wait, there's cars. How do we get there from here? Can we make it? What if we get lost? It's too hot; it's too cold. Do I have enough food? What happens if I get a flat? I'll get homesick. I don't know about this. Let's stay home. I'm tired. I'm sore. My legs hurt. My butt hurts. I'm burned. I'm numb. It's too dangerous. I'll get robbed. I'm not fit enough. I'll get sick. I'll get dizzy. What will happen to me? Is this fun? Will I have enough money? What happens when I run out? It's too remote. I'll get lonely. I'm just not ready. Please, help. What will happen next? The unknown beckons like a toothache...Will I make it? What, how, where, when, why...who?

How do I ride my bicycle thousands of miles across town, through cities, across deserts, over mountains, through valleys and across countries?

Well, I'll tell you one thing: I never claimed to be brave.

 I never claimed to be brave. I have been told I possess courage. And maybe I do. I don't know. What I do know is that life comes and life goes in the blink of an eye and before you know it, it's gone. I undertake journeys by bicycle because I get to see new places, meet new people, log new memories. I get to challenge myself, learn about myself and my world, think about heaven and earth and all that's in it. I get to sing praises to my LORD even when the situations seem grim. I get to accomplish what I don't think I would be able to.

"If you know you will succeed, it's too easy."

There's something to be said about challenges. How else are we to grow? If we remain in the boat, how are we to grow and stretch like Gumby? Answer? We can't. I leave for another bike adventure in seven weeks time and as I write this I do not feel ready. I don't feel that great and if I were to leave tomorrow and hop on my bike I don't think I'd get very far, but that will not stop me. Somehow, I make it down the road and down another road until I get to the place where I set up my tent for the night. The next day I repeat. Each pedal stroke is a perfect circle that takes me further and further along my path.

"...and if you do (return), you will not be the same." - Gandalf

I never claimed to be brave. What I want to say is that I am a normal person like you. Whatever normal looks like in your world, I don't know. Nothing is truly normal I suppose. But I am not an elite cyclist. I am not an avid athlete. I am not "Mr. Exercise." There is not a strict diet I stick to. I am not an "adventurer" like you would think of. But I am determined. I do have courage. I do have hope. And I pray. I pray a lot. To God. And He answers. I am like you, the reader. I am but a mere human on a bicycle. Do I get scared? Yes. Oh yes, do I ever get scared! Do I get cold? Hot? Yes, yes. Danger rears its head. I get uncomfortable. I don't mean to discourage you from your own adventures, but isn't that what adventure is? Adventure cannot happen without an element of danger and risk and the unknown. Adventure happens when you least expect it. When mishaps happen and you are not ready for them. I never claimed to be brave. I go on these long treks because I believe I can. These are the things I remember long after they happen. The summers I do not go on adventures are the ones that blend together and I forget. I remember when I bicycled down the Pacific Coast of the USA and when I rode through the deserts and canyons of California, Nevada and Utah. Boy, did they make good memories. Granted, there were some not so great ones, but again...that's adventure. Often people tell me they wish they could do what I do or that I'm a better man than they or that they will never be able to do that. I say that's rubbish talk! The only reason you say those things is because you believe those things and that is why they will come true. It is truly remarkable what we can accomplish if we just do it. Nike's slogan had it right. Just Do It! Everything else will fall into place. God will protect you. And you will have an adventure of a lifetime. Perhaps, even get hooked and start planning phase two!

I never claimed to be brave. I have only claimed to be a person who travels by bicycle. And you can do the same. Just know you can. Believe in yourself. Have faith. If anyone should stay home and not hop in the saddle it should be me. I get dizzy spells often and it is quite unpleasant when they happen on the road. Balance goes wacky and my head spins. My reasonable thoughts vanish and all reality goes kaput until I find a suitable resting spot. I am never in super shape. The bike takes care of that. I like to eat and eat I do. Food finds itself and I find food. Water is a vital commodity and I drink lots of it to keep me moving...and move I do. That's the key...or at least one key...to move...keep moving, but don't forget to rest which is equally important.

Become brave with me. Be strong and courageous for the LORD your God is with you. Take up the bike and ride down your street, turn left or turn right and follow that until you come to the end of your town and into the country...until you come to the end of the country - and you have done it. You rode off into the sunset and have arrived at journey's end. And the best part? You want to do it again!

My Caliber of Rider

Bicycling is rounding out perfect circles...one pedal stroke after another. It is in the journey where we find adventure. The destination is an added benefit. If all we cared about was the destination, we would fly, drive or use another faster mode of transport. We live in an age of rush, rush, rush...and age of fast cars and hurry. We want to get to places as quickly as possible. Not so with bicycle travelers. We take our time. We enjoy our time.

A tourist to me is someone who stops and smells the roses before their tour bus beckons. They always seem to be on a timeline, governed by the clock. Bicycle travelers go with the flow. We are masters of adventure and masters of easy-flow experiences.

As I set about exploring this vast country, I often think about Lewis and Clark's Corps of Discovery. They weren't tourists; they were adventurers and explorers. A tour usually happens in places where many have tread before. Many a bicycle traveler venture into unknown territory, at least unknown to them. They encounter rough terrain, remote deserts and mountains, vast plains, loneliness, deep valleys, national parks and magnificent views, dangerous traffic and unknown corners...and through it all, we love it. This is why we do it. This is why we explore. Upon return, we tell stories, write blogs and books, share pictures and dream and plan for the next bicycle odyssey. This is why we explore, why we go on quests, why we venture out our front door, why we voyage across continents, why we trek across deserts and mountains, why we journey through deep ravines, why we take small jaunts and meet new people and visit new destinations, and this is why we take on our adventures with gusto. Bring it on. There was a reason Homer wrote The Odyssey rather than The Tour.

When I think of how I ride, I think of a slow turtle that occasionally will find himself tumbling downhills. A friend recently told me, "I know she's probably not your caliber of rider." I went away thinking what exactly he meant. In a sense, I knew what he meant. In the same group I've been called "Mr. Exercise." These people know that I embark on long journeys by bicycle. The last three years I have ridden nearly 13,000 miles. To most that seems like a lot. Most people who live in Salem or the Pacific Northwest are "fair-weather riders." I used to commute by bike and ride in the rain and freezing temps. I was in training, yes, but also I enjoyed it to an extent. I saved on gas and found built-in exercise. It is indeed good for the soul.

I am not a crazy person. I enjoy a bike ride as mush as the next person, especially if the weather holds out long enough to offer more enjoyment. Summer is my favorite season because of this. I love the sun. I love riding in the sun, seeing beautiful oceans and mountains and flowers. God's creation is all around us. But here in the Pacific Northwest, it is vital to view the winter months as just as beautiful. And they can be. I do understand that sometimes it does not seem enjoyable, and it may not be but we can find the beauty in these things too.

But my caliber of rider? What is my caliber of rider? When describing my exploits, someone usually mentions that they'd go along, but they wouldn't be able to keep up with me. That is rubbish to me. I wish this misconception would diminish. I am a slow rider. I am not a cyclist. I am but a person on a bike. I am like you. If you want to go on a ride with me, I will stick with you. I won't get impatient. And chances are you may ride faster than me! I know what you're thinking: fat chance of that. But really, my caliber of rider is you. You, the reader are my caliber of rider. I implore you to think of me as just a slow person on a bicycle. I enjoy myself. There are times when I wish I was faster, yes, but I thank God that I can go slow. That is the point after all. It is not a race. Many a cyclist zooms past me. My perfect circles keep rolling along ever so slowly. But I do get there sooner or later. After all, the experience is within the journey.

Journey with me if you will. Head out on the road. Let's take the roads and trails by storm and go slowly. The slow bicycle movement is protruding ever so like a turtle...and cheetah. We go fast and slow...a mixture. We love it. We hope you do too. So, my caliber of rider is anyone who will go on a ride with me and enjoys it as much as I do. Let's explore together, shall we? The path beckons...