This morning was weird. I’d been riding for two and a half months, and this was the last day of my trip. Unsurprisingly, I had mixed emotions… 

I enjoyed the nonstop stream of interesting people passing through my life along the way.
I missed my family and friends. 

I loved being outside all day, and camping with some incredibly beautiful vistas.
I hated being outside all day in the unforgiving heat, dodging the rain, and was ready to sleep in my own bed.

I liked living in the moment, having no worries other than the basics of food and shelter.
The responsibilities were still there, and still needed to be addressed, lurking behind me as I pedaled. 

I was having fun.
I was tired. 

I was in the best physical condition I would ever be in my life.
My butt was sore.

I wanted it to end.
I didn’t want it to end. 

Regardless of that emotional intermingling, this was it… 

The day begins.

I ate a large breakfast and perused my well-worn map for the best route home. From today’s perspective, I’m wondering if I was trying to determine how I could get onto one last stretch of interstate.

The Koelamays dropped me off at the church where my bike was stored, asking me to lock up the building when I left. As I started to load my pannier bags onto the bike I noticed I had a flat, my second of the trip. I wasn’t surprised; it had started getting a little low yesterday. I put on a new tube and, as I was putting the wheel back on, it hit the brake pad and broke it off    ….sigh….

I fixed that, but it resulted in a late start so I missed the “cool” morning temperatures. The superheated August headwind made today a slog, so it was slow going. I stopped in the shade under an overpass after four miles, then at a rest stop after seven miles. At that rate I calculated I’d get there around 8:00, and only if I didn’t stop for lunch.