Day 36 - May 26 - Grand Finale

Good to be home!
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So here it is, my last entry for the Tour de Fletch travel journal.  It's been a week since Team Bozeman rolled into town at 5:00pm last Thursday.  I figure a week is enough time to let the trip sink in - any longer and I'll probably forget what it was that I learned on my journey.

Sabbatical Concept:  For starters, I cannot take credit for the sabbatical concept.  I'm the 4th domino in the chain reaction that Dr. Todd Harris started here in Bozeman circa 2004.  Todd is a friend of ours here in Bozeman.  He's a family doctor and he and his wife, Laura, have been good friends of ours for about 8 years now.  About 2 years ago, Todd decided he needed a break from the 24/7 schedule he had been keeping for many years looking after the Fletcher family and many others.  So, with some planning, Todd scheduled 6 weeks off from work and traveled alone to India.  The deal he struck with Laura was that she would have time for a sabbatical, too.  I saw Todd up at Bridger Bowl (our local ski mountain) the week after Laura left for her month in Mexico (by the way, Laura is a personal counselor, writer and artist).  He looked like a train wreck.  One week into her sabbatical he hit the "panic button" and one of the grandmas appeared in Bozeman for support.  But, I digress.  Last spring, 2005, Brigitte (my wife) took her sabbatical.  It was a month long solitary road trip that took her to the San Juan islands off the Washington coast near Seattle, then to the Oregon coast and back to Bozeman.  Learning from Todd, I didn't wait to hit the "panic button" and invited my mom to join me for 2 weeks while B was on her journey.  This spring, my sabbatical took the form of Tour de Fletch.  Everybody's idea of a personal journey is different.  That's the point.  Who's gonna be the 5th domino in the sabbatical chain?

That would mean more to me than a bike ride any day.

Having that out of the way, here are the things that stick in my head now that I've finished my bike journey.  In no particular order or category:

Solitude: I was afraid that the solitude would bother me.  It didn't.  Sure, I missed my friends and family.  But, I was never lonely.  Each day was very busy with the logistics of the trip: food, water, bike maintenance, shelter, map/route planning, setting up camp, taking down camp.  Simple stuff, but I was on the go from 7:00am until I collapsed each night around 9:00pm after riding for an average of 7 hours/70 miles.  At home, when my family is away, I find that I easily get lonely. It's because I'm accustomed to having people around me at home.  But, on this journey, I was never lonely being alone.  On several occasions, I would go 48+ hours without talking to another person.  I enjoyed the simplicity and clarity of the solitude.

Absence of "noise": Perhaps the best gift of the trip was the absence of "noise" and unwanted "stimuli".  Today, most of us are constantly hammered by noise - cell phones, radio, TV, Internet, kids, bosses, customers, spouses, traffic, neighbors, fund raisers, etc.  Constant noise, much of it unwanted, needing immediate, urgent attention.  We are so accustomed to the stresses of all of this stimuli that we now think of this as normal.  We have become "adrenalin junkies".  Needing that near constant stimuli from cell phones, CNN, email, Blackberries, etc.   For the majority of the 28 days on Tour de Fletch, I had none of that.  My cell phone was turned off, no radio, no TV, no demanding customers, no screaming kids,......just me and my bike (and my music).  I didn't have to solve any problems other than my own.  Most of the TransAmerica route has very little traffic.  It is very rural and most towns are in the Population: 1000 range.  The absense of noise was wonderful! Now that I'm back, this has been the biggest adjustment.  Some noise you can't turn off - its a fact of life.  But, I can and will be much more careful about the "noise" that I let into my life.  Controlling the sources of noise/stimuli/information is something that I will think carefully about from now on.

Bit Off Too Much:  OK, for those of you who know me, no surprise.  I burn the candle from both ends in just about everythign I do in life.  Being the slow talking southern type, it may not look like it, but I can be pretty driven and obsessive about things.  The trip was very demanding - mentally and physically.  It was harder than I thought - I was a bit arrogant going in.  I had in my mind that I could average 75 miles a day.  Being the goal-oriented guy that I am, I was on a personal mission to accomplish this.  Well, it was a stupid and totally arbitrary goal.  End the end, I averaged about 60 miles a day through Appalachia (the hardest part of the trip) and 80 through the Rockies - with a final average of near 70 miles a day.  1700 miles in 25 days of riding.  The down side was there was very little time for chilling out.  Nearly every hour of every day I was either riding, sleeping, eating, cooking, setting up camp, tearing down camp, or buying provisions for the day.  My online journal - about an hour every other day - was my relaxing time.  Next time I do journey like this, I'll plan in more downtime.  Well actually, knowing me, I probably won't.

Many Kind Strangers: My trip was filled with many random acts of kindness by total strangers.  Lance, the professor from VA Tech, gave me a very cool and simple "parking" brake for my bike. The couple in Pike Country, Kentucky who let me camp on their property in the middle of "coal country".  The many churches through Appalachia who open their door to cyclists on the TransAmerica route.  The homeless guy who gave me a telephone calling card.  The Mormon couple who served me breakfast in their trailer home.  The couple near Togwatee Pass who let me camp on the banks of the Wind River.  The bike shop who fixed my bike for free.  There are many, many good and kind people out there in America.  Sure, I had some influence over this.  I smiled, waved, said "hello".  But, in the end, these folks could have walked away without helping.  They all knew they would likely never see me again.  And, there was really nothing I could do in return for them. From now on, I will strive to help strangers in need more often.

No "Mean" Drivers:  Never once along the trip did I have a close call with a vehicle.  Drivers went out of there way to give me ample room.  I think several things influenced this.  For one, I was by myself and with the trailer in tow, people could tell I was on a long journey. I was well marked with yellow caution signs, flashing bike lights, and orange flag. Two, I stayed as far to the right of the road as absolutely possible.  I made a point of not hogging the road.  Three, if I was holding up traffic, I tried to pull off as soon as possible to let traffic past me.  From my experience, drivers resent groups of riders hogging the highway.  You've seen this before - 3 or 4 cyclists riding side by side taking up an entire lane.  These are the cyclists who get most of the anger from drivers.  A lone rider with trailer being as respectful as possible is treated very well drivers throughout rural America.  While you are driving, please remember to "share the road" and be kind to cyclists.

Why Not?  Throughout the duration of my whole adventure, I had countless people (friends and strangers) say "I'd love to do something like that but.....".  Not a month long bike ride per se, but some sort of a personal adventure or goal.  Everybody's dream is different.  But, there is always something holding us back from doing what we really want to do in life.  Work and family responsibilities are real.  But, they are not unsurmountable obstacles.  In fact, I have found that while I was away my business and family have become more confident in knowing that they can "survive" without me.  Not that I'm planning to leave, but it's good contingency planning in case I get hit by a train tomorrow (let's hope not).  With good planning, support from family, and commitment, we can do crazy things like take a month long sabbabtical.  So, what do you want to do that seems "crazy"?  Don't say it can't be done.  That's a lazy cop-out.  Dream. Plan. Act.  Just do it.  Be Bold.  Live Strong.  OK, enough positive mental attitude slogans.  I'm not a self-help personal coach.  I'll leave that up to Tony Robins and the like.

Last One:  OK, here's the last one.  Riding a bike alone for 1700 miles across America is easy compared to being a good parent.  With my bike ride, it was physically demanding - and required constant vigilence and logistical thinking but....at the end of the day....I was just riding a bike and camping.  Parenting is the hardest thing I do.  Harder than succeeding in business at North Star.  Harder than having a good marriage with Brigitte.  But, I'd like to think that when they are laying me to rest (hopefully in a long while), that my kids will say that "I was a good Dad".  That would mean more to me than a bike ride any day.

I've enjoyed having you share your time with me over the past few weeks.  I never suspected that there would be this many people who would find this worthy of reading.  For those that are interested, I also keep a professional blog which I write for my team at North Star.  Mostly its boring business stuff, but occasionally I stumple into "life stuff" as well.  If you like, you are welcome to tune in at: http://fridayswithfletch.blogspot.com/

Have a nice summer!

Doug