All Looking for Something

For the most part, I feel decently invisible. Cars driving past typically keep their eyes on the road. People walking by don’t stop to ask what I’m doing. The occasional stranger appears with a story of their own bicycle escapades. And maybe that makes sense. I focus on my story because I’m heavily involved. No reason to think anyone else would have excess time to explore another life.

Some people do, of course. They have time and interest and a life they’re willing to share with me in return. The NBA playoffs are on and I find a place with the game. This means a bar. In this case, a sports bar. I shouldn’t really fit in. Long hair, the bicycle, reading a book… but drinking a bud light. It’s my undercover move. It softens the blow from my hippie necklace.

I start meeting people. Many seem to be in school studying a trade. Most are locals but there are a few fellow travelers. Enter Bobi and Robert, a couple from South Carolina. They’ve driven across the country in 11 days and are headed to Alaska. Until this trip, Robert had never traveled further than 50 miles from his place of birth. He made a plan and now they’re out and about with fresh, unstamped passports, having a blast.

It’s good to be a traveler. A passerby. Torrents of cheer and profound well-wishing. Foolish evenings. It’s been fun to let go with strangers. It’s incredible to spend time in the unknown. No number of judgments or assumptions could ever come close to the reality of these meandering conversations. How else to know what life is like than to listen.

The hotel life is odd. I meet the night manager. His technical job title is night auditor and his pay reflects that status. Nonetheless, he’s the only employee on site and rotates through security, laundry, breakfast prep/chef, as well as the front desk. He’s not very pleased with the situation.

How is it that we got here? Everywhere complains of the lacking workforce. The workforce pleads for decent pay. Healthcare and education are overworked. Finance, tech, and oil are overpaid. Non-profit science is under celebrated. The environment is overstressed. So too, are the people.

Life thrives on community. We are not alpha predators. No reason to trudge around alone. Only a few people I’ve spoken to have understood that while this trip is a “solo” ride, I am not alone. Certainly not often. There will be days, I’m sure. Days and nights with nothing but the stars and wind for company. But how could that be lonesome?

I spent the last two days in the woods, camping by lakes and hot springs. I have not been alone. With a friend and their handy suv, I’ve traveled 200 miles and 20,000 ft of hills, and I haven’t moved a muscle. Road-trips are quick and easy. Beautiful terrain, mountains of food and firewood, the break has been perfect.

Tomorrow, I set off again. From Ashland to Grants Pass. It’s time to leave California behind and see what Oregonian roads look like. There will be much more camping, farming, and hill climbing. Before I start the mountains, I’m happy to say it feels like the right direction. I’m ready for challenging days and vast, quiet nights. It’ll be good to leave city life behind—if only for a week. Regardless, I’m sure what’s going on will keep on going on. Quite a bit faster than me and my wheel, but I’ll catch up. Or better yet, maybe everything else will slow down. A boy can dream, right?