This is where folks usually attempt to write something profoundly enticing that, in a paragraph or so, will hopefully convince you to stick around for the duration of the story ahead. Something that proves worth. The words are mulled over and dwelled upon until something perfect, or at least satisfactory, is presented. My current favorite does so by attempting to explain the seriousness of beets. I won't be doing so. All I have for you is a guarantee that this condensed version of experiences had at the age of 24/25 is accurate and true to what I felt was most important to share at that point in time. There isn't a climax and it will often seem more like a food blog than an adventure diary. Let's call it a random collection of things seen and thoughts had while my dear friend and I pedaled across the country. I hope it allows you to feel even one-hundredth of the feels that I experienced in each of these moments. Enjoy.
One can plan as much as they desire. One can choose a route and second guess it with each decided waypoint. Getting the gear is easy, but how in the world do you pack it all? Dreaming of the adventure comes naturally, but it takes a lot of work to arrive at the step-off point. Hours, days, weeks, and months go towards the preparation of an adventure. The prep time and effort allows the final jump to feel comfortable and exciting. In the end though, there is no complete preparation for the moment one boards a plane with a one-way ticket. The steps down the gate corridor feel as though they have purpose, but it isn't exactly clear what they are. The future of the trip is unknown, although it is fueled and guided by the hopes and actions of those who chase it.
One can plan as much as they desire. One can choose a route and second guess it with each decided waypoint. Getting the gear is easy, but how in the world do you pack it all? Dreaming of the adventure comes naturally, but it takes a lot of work to arrive at the step-off point. Hours, days, weeks, and months go towards the preparation of an adventure. The prep time and effort allows the final jump to feel comfortable and exciting. In the end though, there is no complete preparation for the moment one boards a plane with a one-way ticket. The steps down the gate corridor feel as though they have purpose, but it isn't exactly clear what they are. The future of the trip is unknown, although it is fueled and guided by the hopes and actions of those who chase it.
I've now found myself in seat 26C with a welcoming hand towards anything that presents itself. In seven hours, I'll be greeted by my comrade Wes Newbury in Boston, Massachusetts. I met Wes a year and a half ago in Ollantaytambo, Peru. The small Andean town of Ollanta is nested beautifully between glaciers and rolling hillsides, as the primary gateway to the once Incan refuge of Machu Picchu. Using Ollanta as our home base, we ventured off on treks to newly discovered ruins and into questionably sketchy zones of the Peruvian Amazon. A mutual thirst for adventure was all we needed to get things rolling.
I've had the desire to ride my bicycle across the country since I first began mashing my feet into pedals. While my passion for cycling developed purely in dirt, I knew I would eventually pedal from one coast to the other, one rotation at a time. Graduating from Boise State University only a few months ago, this is my first experience with not having any required placement in the coming months. Wes and I have decided to exercise this freedom via the dream of a bike touring trip across the country. Packing was put off until early this morning and finished merely hours before takeoff. Last week I did a trial packing with some of the gear, although in all honesty I never once fully loaded the bike to see if all the gear even fits. Your guess is as good as mine and I'll find out soon! Working long days for the last two months in Truckee-Tahoe, California, I only put about forty miles on my bike, while Wes has put nearly 2,000 on his. I'm hoping he plans on wearing lead shoes.
After spending a few days in Boston to explore a bit of Wes' childhood, we'll be starting our 4,500-mile trip in Acadia National Park, Maine. With a rough route in mind and a desire for culture, we'll begin pedaling south. Hammocking along the way and acting on the advice of locals. I'll be searching not only for an exciting experience, but also a greater knowledge of the country I love and the people who reside within it.
This trip made possible by: all of you! While some of you may have stumbled across this in a late-night Google search for Surlys or two guys/one country, most of you have a personal connection to me of which I am incredibly grateful and appreciative of. The support of friends, family, and organizations is what creates the drive and attainability of such a trip. The love and support I've received from each of you empowers me to work towards these often outrageous goals. While I mean this towards all of you, I would like to specifically thank my extraordinary mother and fathers, loving grandparents, beautifully interesting brothers, the Keziah family, Ashley Lorona, Joel Cropper, Katie Adams, Phil Hobbs, and Patrick Orton. Each of you have had an incredible impact on my life. You have each helped mold the person I have become through your passion for life and compassion for others. Whether your passion has been family, travel, vintage cars, music, the arts, animals, laughter, or adrenaline, it has encouraged me to chase what I love.
While this day harbors a great feeling of excitement and unknown, it also carries a great deal of sadness for myself and the world as a small community. This past weekend, my dear friend, Patrick Orton, left this world far too soon. By no means was he taken though. His life was lived in a way in which nothing could be taken from him. He lived a life in which we all envied and admired. Each day was greeted with a passionate purpose and unmatchable drive. We grew up together, creating our own versions of an adventurous and full lifestyle. While we often found ourselves separated by hundreds or thousands of miles, our interactions shared a mutual sense of support and admiration. I've made some of my best and worst decisions with him, and I wouldn't take a single one of them back. We learn from such mistakes, although sometimes we only learn once it is too late. For you my friend, I will om at every mountain top I conquer, practice circular breathing in every cup of juice I gulp down, belt out a mating call atop every cliff I scope out, admire every mullet, snow dance around every campfire, build a cairn along the bank of every river I swim in and smile widely in every photo of the trip. While you would laugh at a silly dedication, I promise to hold you in my heart and thoughts for every pedal rotation of the trip. To all of you reading this, whether you knew him or not, this is a testament to the fragility and power of life. You don't have to live life to another's standard of fullest or biggest, but please live it how you truly desire. Live life exactly the way you want to and don't accept anything else, because you truly never know when tomorrow won't be there for you. Today is the day for life, passion, change, decision, exhilaration and happiness. My deepest support and love goes out to Kristina, George, Liam and the rest of the Orton family. I love and miss you Patty. Praise Ullr!
