And in conclusion….

Final thoughts

Months before I pedaled an inch across America, I was getting some attention for what I said I was going to do. I was uneasy about accepting any praise or glory when there wasn’t anything to support it other than my own words, but the idea appealed to people and there was no stopping it. Now that I’ve done it, I feel more comfortable about offering some lessons I learned from the journey. They are all derived from my experiences on the road, but hopefully have some use to others who have followed along with me.

As I said in the “Motivation” page, my friend Lance was the catalyst that got me moving in the direction I had to go. The phrase about “Bad things happening to good people” applies to him, as well as many others we’ve all met in life, where things didn’t turn out the way they should have. Fairness doesn’t exist in nature, and the realization that we’re all living on borrowed time compelled me to arrange my priorities to do what I needed to do.

I often thought as I rode each day how much Lance would have enjoyed the trip, and what a great traveling companion he would have been. His fitness and positive attitude under any conditions would have got him across easily and I’m sure he’d have loved every minute. I carried his hiking medallion with me in remembrance, and it was a motivating factor when things got difficult. When I reached the Pacific, it was with Ishmael and Lance.

The lesson is, if you have something you’ve consistently wanted to do, but have put off, start thinking of ways it can be done. Eventually, old age or death will put an end to it, and regrets will take the place of good memories you could have had. It took me a long time to get this. It’s now up to you.

While I did ride across the country, what I saw was usually a few hundred feet to several miles on each side of the road. In essence, I was sampling the U.S. over the 4,000+ miles I traveled. My knowledge of small-town America is now much improved in the states I visited, but compared to what’s out there, I know very little. The saying “You don’t know what you don’t know” is completely accurate.

While I did grow in confidence and learning as I went along, the experience was also humbling. I could look down any street in any town and see dozens of people I knew nothing about. In the country at night there were thousands of stars that don’t appear where I live. Riding in the quiet of the wilderness, miles from anywhere, will put you in your natural position in the Universe. Hint: You’re not that important. Rather than being discouraged by this, it was empowering to know that while some things are essentially eternal, we’re not.

For example, for as many times as I took a picture of a mountain, I was never satisfied with any of them. It wasn’t the fault of the mountain, but in the way the mountain was presented. Reducing a mountain to a 3″ x 5″ image diminishes the mountain. To appreciate a mountain, the observer should feel diminished. Recognizing limitations is as important as understanding your strengths. Knowing yourself and how you fit into the world is a good way to stay centered, reasonable, realistic about expectations and appreciative of what’s available to you, versus trying to change everything to your satisfaction and becoming frustrated.

What’s next for me? Back to work and “normal” life for now. Winston Churchill’s quote, from November 10, 1942, sums up what I’m thinking, and if it happens, you’ll be the first to know.

“Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.”