“On my Way”

Those are the words I tapped into my phone as I rounded a corner in Seaside heading to the Turnaround Monument at the end of my Lewis and Clark bike tour.

Three little words that conveyed my bursting heart. I was almost done! After over 40 days of riding halfway across the country during the pandemic—where, perhaps, I shouldn’t have even been alive. There was so much misinformation—I wasn’t a skeptic, I social distanced and wore a mask—and, maybe, it wasn’t misinformation about congregant living and those over 60 being the most vulnerable. I mean all that did apply to me, even the part where I purposefully decided to work at our homeless shelter, where avoiding contact with the infected was nearly impossible.

All this to say: I didn’t die or catch COVID. Then right as lockdown restrictions lifted, I hopped on my bike and rode to the Pacific Ocean.

On my way—can also mean I’ve done all the prep, I’m ready, again, almost there.

I’m down to sorting through my gear and planning what can go into the box with the bike (my only checked luggage) and what I’ll be wearing or carrying (an overhead and personal under the seat). Very limited. I’m not exactly a spreadsheet person. Also, I’ve done this lots of times before. Nevertheless, I print off a checklist and make sure I have the stuff I need. Always I forget something or the wrong thing ends up with me going through TSA. I’m trying to avoid my lube being confiscated or losing my Swiss Army knife to the TSA bins with all the other small knives, fingernail clippers, and scissors 

It’s somewhat counter-intuitive. My lighter which could go in with the box with my camp stove needs to be with me. Visa versa the knife handy in my pocket, needs to be checked. I have to remember to remove the lube from my under-the-seat tool bag and bring it on board. My small battery pack will also need to stay with me. Every item has to be scrutinized to make sure it will end up with me in Oregon. And—

ALWAYS TSA DISTURBS THE BOX. No matter how well I pack it or disclaimers on the front: Fragile, etc. They will untape it, jerk out the bike, have a look, and shove it back in. And rarely retape it very well. I’ve ended up collecting my bike box and stray stuff at the other end of a trip all in bits and pieces. Sheesh. No wonder I ride a bit of a clunker on these trips. Nothing gets respect.

Anyway, I’m on my way. Physically, mentally, and in my spirit. I wish I knew the future so I might be really ready for it. But I don’t. I have good tires and backup inner tubes. I have rain protection. I have charging cables and a back up battery. I have almost everything I’ll need and, if not, can purchase it. I will need to stop fretting and doubting at some point.

Till then . . . I’m on my way.