As I looked down the aisle,
everyone who had a window seat stared intently out, like a curious pack of meerkats looking over the savanna. But this
was no savanna; we were cruising high above the pacific northwest. Passengers pressed their
foreheads against the curved paneling in
order to catch a glimpse of the snow capped peak of Mount Hood. As much as I tried to partake in the scenery,
I could only violate the personal space of my neighbor so much before I
resigned myself to sipping my complimentary coke; quietly sulking in my
disappointing lack of a window. As I finished
the remnants of my drink, I grinned to myself as I realized the stark
contrast between my current situation and that which I experienced just days earlier.
Instead of crossing the Cascades
sipping a coke at 35,000ft enjoying the comforts of modern flight, the days previous had me conquering these peaks in a much more
personal manner; my pace as fast as my heart and legs could work, my weather
worn saddle causing me endless consternation. I couldn’t
help but feel slight angst when traveling home at such speeds and comfort; what
took me more than a month to complete by my power, was taking me mere hours in
a plane. Regardless, I was glad to be
going home. I had just had the adventure
of a lifetime, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I didn’t want this to be
the last great adventure. While I didn’t know it at the time, the idea to canoe
the Mississippi was planted as soon as one adventure ended
One week from today, it will be a
year since I set off from the sandy shores of the Atlantic bent on peddling my
way across the nation. With the ocean
behind me and an entire continent to cross, I had little idea what lay in the
thousands of miles of pavement ahead, other than sore tired legs and sore rears. Reflecting back on the ride, I could not have
predicted just how much of an adventure it did become. Such a ride was not merely a test of my
mental and physical endurance, but also an opportunity to experience the
quintessential America, an America made up of people, each with their own
unique experiences, personalities and stories.
Before I started the ride I was
asked by many people, why? I find myself hard-pressed to find a simple
answer. The quick answer is simply,
because it’s there, because I think I can, and really, why not? Human nature is inclined to exploration, the
pursuit of seemingly frivolous feats. But I’m inclined to say that if we always
had to give an answer as why, Instead of assuming the attitude of “Why not?”,
the human narrative would probably be more practical albeit far less
interesting. John F Kennedy summed up
the “why not” attitude well: “But why,
some say, the moon? Why choose this as our goal? And they may well ask, why
climb the highest mountain? Why, 35 years ago, fly the Atlantic? We choose to
go to the moon…not because they are easy, but because they are hard..”
Like many ideas, canoeing the Mississippi
started as a short passing thought, a pondering of what I could accomplish
next. The thought stayed, it grew. It evolved from the fantasy of vagabond into a plausible and tangible reality. In a
little less than a week, a year to the day of the start of my trans America ride,
my friend Toby and I will set out from Lake Itasca, Minnesota with our sights
set on getting to New Orleans. Even now,
I don’t know if I feel more excited or nervous about the challenge that lies
ahead. Am I crazy? Well, that’s up to opinion.
People pursue what they value. My wife and I have
made the choice to value making memories and pursuing a life that challenges
and changes us in the hope that such investments will be worth much more in the future. I hope to keep a consistent blog about the adventure, and hope you will enjoy the journey along with me. For those who wish to
follow the adventure, the travel blog address will be
downoldmanriver.blogspot.com.
“Only
those who attempt the absurd accomplish the impossible.”
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