A North American Bicycle Journey
Directionless wanderings from San Francisco to Mexico, via the Arctic Circle
19 years ago, almost to the day, at the end of my twenties, I started a bike ride. I didn't have an ultimate direction in mind, let alone a route planned to get there. I had a few paper maps, no phone, a 12-string guitar, an analog camera and 20 rolls of film.
I said goodbye to my Oakland life, where I'd been working and dealing with a bunch of mounting health problems, mostly resulting from a bicycle accident a year and a half before. I'd been run over by a 21 million dollar Oakland Raiders football player who'd been acquitted of a well-publicised date rape case the day before in San Francisco. My bicycle helmet, which on a whim I'd only put on moments before, took the brunt of the impact, leaving me with a split scalp and a face full of gravel rash.
On Friday the 13th of all days. Waking up in the back of an ambulance has a certain way of affecting your outlook on life. The giddiness of small talk with the paramedics who appear, as if angels, joking about dodging death this time.
I had a headache for months, neck problems, nerve problems, memory problems, fatigue. I saw speech therapists, chiropractors, neurologists, physiotherapists, lawyers. Eventually my undiagnosed coeliac disease got so bad that my doctor insisted I take a long health leave. Instead I quit my job and began a somewhat directionless journey throughout the western states of the US and eventually wound my way up to the Alaskan Arctic Circle and then down to Mexico.
Travelling has always scared the shit out of me. I needed to do it as a safety valve or to get out of mental ruts; situations and habits that I'd begun to stagnate in. It reminded me once again of the frailty of life.
I'd recently begun to experiment with slow living ideas. It had begun I think when I'd discovered the slow food movement and I endeavoured to start doing things with more appreciation for the time it takes to create beautiful things. A bike ride seemed to be a perfect way to emulate this, but honestly it often felt I was still going too fast.
I think my biggest take away from this bike journey was reinforcing my belief in the kindness of strangers.
Whenever I needed help there would be someone there. Didn't matter if they had dissimilar religious views, radically different political views, they'd be willing to take a risk on helping some weirdo in lycra with a silly accent.
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