End of an era/beginning anew

23.9.10

En route to Cork (por autobus)

I realize that in my haste to let the people know of such a momentous occasion (after all, the running of my first bike into the ground has just transpired) I've sidestepped and generally neglected many of the principal points of web blog protocol, or really all codes of storytelling in general. That is, I have not properly introduced myself, and forget about the intricate setup for the maximum-impact delivery of the punchline. But so it goes, and I will attempt to remedy what bits I can.

I have received a wonderful, once-in-a-lifetime sort of opportunity to travel till my heart's content (God willing, it will never be). With the support of Harvard, my alma mater (it's beyond weird referring to it as a completed past action), I've since embarked on a journey, an adventure... a “CycloQuest”™, if you will, to the far ends of the earth. But I have not left home alone; a good – nay, great! – pal and longtime companion on the Canal of mine Sir Sean Gosewisch is accompanying me to glory, achieved whichever way works. I say that because we've quickly discovered that this trip is certainly a mix of ways of life, attitudes, scenery, weather, encounters with people/death, and even modes of transportation (broken bikes can't take you very far). Even a mere three weeks in, we have had to throw out the majority of our expectations as to what it would actually be like traveling through Europe by bike.

The most important lesson we have learned, and the one thing that will continually and perpetually reappear on these pages, is that people are wonderful. “What?!” I can hear you shouting. In reality, if you're even still reading, you are not visibly reacting very much and certainly not shouting. (Editor's note: if you have a mirror handy, sneak a peek at yourself a few times while reading; this can be just as entertaining as what you're studying, at times even more so!) Certainly, I've gone mad. Why, I know quite a few people, and they're all Johnny Rotten Bag of Apples! But I'm unrelenting on this point, as it is true through and through: people are kind, warm, friendly, sociable, and eager to please. I am quickly losing count of the number of times people have helped us in some manner: whether it is something as simple (or complex here in Ireland) as providing directions; or a potentially burdensome deed such as taking us in from a terrible storm, feeding us all kinds of hot food, and letting us shower and spend the night in a warm house (this has happened three times).. When I take trips in the future, it will be mighty difficult to take the kind of vacations I had as a kid, where we would rent out a cabin or a series of hotels and spend very little time interacting with those outside the Vacation Circle.

We've covered over 1000 km so far and endured many bicycle troubles: broken pannier (Sean), broken rack (Sean), destroyed rear wheel (me, ball bearings went), bottom bracket wobble (again with the ball bearings!), and, of course, the whole cracked-handlebar-stem-induced-crash-on-the-mountain thing. I say “endured” as opposed to “suffered” because we haven't really suffered in that way on this trip. In fact, each of those trials has offered some sort of silver lining, as it were, that actually made the trouble better than merely bearable. For instance, my crash resulted in meeting some fine people (including a doctor who loved the terms “just a graze” and “entirely superficial”); Sean's rack made us more handy in making on-the-fly repairs; my rear wheel allowed us to camp in an abandoned college that was perhaps under construction; and my bottom bracket problem led me to talk to a mechanic who brushed us off and warned me to lower my handlebar stem. Isn't that ironic? (Refer to the first post for the missing half of this Alanis Morissette reference)

And, though I'm on a bus right now, I don't feel any remorse for leaving the bike behind for the moment. I realize that this trip is unlike my other two bike trips in the US, where I was not only determined to reach a stated goal (#1: Home in ten days; #2: Seattle in 7 weeks) but moreover to do it completely on my own power. Here in Europe, I have no such destination, and I'm not seeking the special pride of enduring a seemingly impossible journey to its predetermined; in fact, I'm not trying to “endure” at all! Sean and I are taking our time by enjoying the beautiful scenery, cherishing the precious moments we can spend in the company of strangers (especially in the capacity of guests), and relishing every opportunity we have to get at the very marrow of life, or, if you prefer nipple analogies to anything calcified, to suckle the very teat of life. A crucial means to this end is by taking our time in the grocery stores and experiencing every special meal we can, but food is another topic for another session.

For the conclusion of this prequel-type post, I'd like to add that Sean and I have welcomed a new companion to our adventures, and she goes by the name of Midnight Rider. What I mean is that Gitane is no more, as she has given all she has to give. The new mount is sturdy, smooth, and silent, all the better for phase 3 in our Scheme, involving the entire Garda force and ten thousand rolls of toilet paper. Once again, another story for another time.

And if you ever question whether you should do it, whether you have the time or energy or willpower, answer with a resounding yes, for you only die once.