June 12, 2015
Conflicted Emotions: Farewell and the Long Drive Home
Today was different. I awoke at the Parkview Hotel at the usual time (4:00 am), but I had no need to scurry about and get prepared to leave. It was a strange feeling, and I didn't like it. Our bikes were stored several doors down in a vacant room at the hotel, and I volunteered to help Daniel and James by retrieving their bikes. They readily accepted my offer, as they were quite anxious to get underway this morning and tackle the first real climb of the Rockies. Although the experience of others had given us the impression that the Rockies were gentle as compared to the Appalachians and the Ozarks, this would be the first high-altitude experience for the two of them on this journey, and the weather forecast was a bit iffy as well; so they wanted to roll out ASAP.
"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves."
-- John Muir
The above quote seemed appropriate for today; but not for me, not this time. I wasn't going to get this experience; not today anyway. I walked down to the room where our bikes were stored and unlocked the door. Harvey was ready to roll, nervously chomping at the bit and ready to tackle the mountains. "Calm down," I told him as I rolled James's bike outside and staged it a few doors down outside our room so James could easily load his panniers. Returning to get Daniel's bike I reminded Harvey, "We talked about this, remember? We're going home today, we aren't riding today."
Harvey seemed confused, and as I rolled Daniel's bike outside he erupted "Today?! It can't be today! It's too soon, I'm not ready to quit. I need to climb the Rockies today with the other bikes - I'm ready to roll, we have to ride today!" he practically screamed at me. I was experiencing my own emotional rush and holding things back as best I could, and this outburst from Harvey was almost more than I could bear. Mustering what strength I had to keep a brave face on things, I muttered weakly "It's OK. We're going to do it, we'll finish this journey, but we have to take a break for a while so I can catch up with things at home and work. Rest easy now and I'll be back later to load you up for the drive home."
Harvey calmed down, which was good because he had been yelling loud enough that I was concerned he might wake others. But as I was shutting the door to the storage room, he spoke to me in a calm and reasoned voice, "You know that things change. You know circumstances could arise that keep us from completing the journey. Don't lie to me; you know that if we don't ride today we may never finish this journey." I sighed deeply; he was right, of course. I thought about it for a moment and replied; "Yes, things can change. Things can happen that are out of my control that could prevent us from finishing the journey. It's possible, but I don't think it's likely. I can't promise you that we will ever finish this journey, but I can promise you that I intend to try." Harvey stammered a bit trying to find the words through all the emotions that only a bike can feel after enduring a journey like ours, then he finally said rather weakly; "OK then, if that's how it has to be, so be it. But I don't like it."
I closed the door quickly so Harvey couldn't see that I was getting teary-eyed. Yeah, I thought, I don't like it either. Not one bit. It was a good plan logistically when I first hatched it, because it allowed me to keep up with my work duties by splitting the trip into two segments. But when I first developed the plan I had no idea how difficult it would be to stop after the first half. I had no idea that I would meet other adventurers, how much the camaraderie with others would mean, and how wonderful it was to share these amazing experiences with others. The second half of my journey would likely be much different, and Harvey and I probably will be completely alone on it. I'm strong now, both physically and mentally, and I won't be able to maintain this level of conditioning in the 2-month interim prior to starting the second half. But it's time to shelve those thoughts for now, as I must say goodbye to Daniel and James. I walked Daniel's bike over to our room and staged it outside, then went in to get my camera.
We shook hands and wished each other the best. There was no need for a long goodbye, and the guys were anxious to roll. I wasn't happy that I had to stay behind while my companions rode off, but I tried to put on a brave face for them.
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Here's Daniel leaving the hotel;
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And here's James departing;
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From the walkway outside of our room I had a clear view looking westward on Royal Gorge Boulevard. Here's my final view of my two riding companions heading westward to ascend the mountains;
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As they rolled out of sight, a heaviness fell over me like a damp fog. Will this interruption in my trip be the ultimate end to it, or will I be able to complete the second half starting in 2 months as planned? The early morning mountains seemed to reflect my thoughts with their gloomy mood.
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It was only 5:15 am as Daniel and James departed, and the hotel breakfast wouldn't even be served for an hour yet. But I had lots of things to do to get prepared for returning home, including working on this journal, so I was able to stay quite busy throughout the morning. Anita had driven part of the way last night and stayed at a hotel somewhere in Kansas, and she was expected to arrive early this afternoon. So I enjoyed a very leisurely breakfast, worked on this journal, and arranged my things in preparation for her arrival. I will be glad to see her, and thinking about her arrival helped to ease the emotional roller-coaster I was experiencing from the sudden interruption of my journey.
Anita got an early start and made it to Canon City by 1:15 pm. I loaded Harvey into the van; my van is tall enough that I could just roll him into the back and tie him securely to one side. He didn't say a word as I loaded him up; not one single word. I just smiled at him and nodded, then we headed off to drive as far as we could today. I thought we might drive till midnight and actually make it back to Tulsa tonight, but I had forgotten about the time zone change; going east meant we lost 1 hour and would not arrive home until 1:00 am. That was a bit too late for me, so we planned to stop somewhere in Kansas and get a hotel for the night. Late in the afternoon I passed by some cyclists headed westbound and recognized Dan and Josh from Kentucky! There was no good place to stop and chat with them, and they were cycling rather briskly anyway; I suspect that they were anxious to reach wherever their destination was for the night as it was getting rather late. So I didn't turn around and stop to talk with them; I'm already feeling some pangs of regret for not doing so despite there not being a good place to stop. They are several days behind Daniel and James now and probably won't catch up to them. It is possible that I may encounter them finishing their journey when I start the second half of mine. Driving on, as the sun set, we were on an extremely lonely section of Kansas highway and I stopped for this photo of the sunset;
How strange to see the sun set I thought. I don't recall seeing a single sunset on my journey. I saw many sunrises due to starting early to avoid the heat, but by sunset time I was usually in camp or a hotel or hostel and didn't have the kind of view that one gets on the open road. We stopped in Medicine Lodge, KS and obtained a hotel for the night, then made it home by 10:30 am the following morning.
Life is going to seem strange for the next couple of months prior to resuming my journey. To be continued - I sincerely hope...
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