Oh, the countless people I have met a long the way. The amount of loving and caring people in this country is remarkable, and when you meet people on the road divisive attributes don’t apply. People don’t care about your political views, where you came from, or any other frivolous nonsense that we allow to pull us apart from genuine human connection.
What’s fascinating to me is the role you play in the connection determines what’s appropriate to suggest when you say goodbye. It’s not uncommon for a host to tell me that I am always welcome to return and for me to reciprocate in kind (you know, when I have a home). Some hosts have gone as far to imply that I didn’t have to leave, that, as far as they could tell, there is nothing stopping me from starting a life in their small town. Those are the ones that make my heart grow the most. In these last few weeks, there have been a few small towns in our massive country that I had to force myself to leave or else I never would complete my ride. But, alas, Zephyr’s gentle wind is always whispering sweet things in my ear about what is just down the road, and the wanderer in me feels compelled to explore her rumors.
What I love the most is meeting another solo bike tourist. There have been a few, at least on my end, that I have really hit it off with and, if I am truly honest, didn’t want to leave his or her company so soon. Whether it be Mike, traveling the country with his dog; the ever beautiful Rosie, a Brit who is pushing herself across America with great tenacity before her visa expires; Ron, a man few years older than me who is a touring legend as far as I’m concerned; Cat, a cheerful French Canadian whose smile could warm the earth if the sun ever went out; or Reed, whose maturity is beyond his age, all of these people are people that I wouldn’t mind one more day with, just one more chance to listen to their stories. The ironic thing is, is that because all of us came out here alone with our own trip in mind, none of us would ever dream of imposing on the other’s journey. We each value our own, so we wouldn’t dare ask someone else to change theirs. We share these wonderful moments of vulnerability and familiarity with one another to let go of it shortly after.
Albeit brief, it is the most beautiful example of platonic love I have ever experienced in my life, and if it were the only good that came from this trip, which it’s not, that would make every bit of worth it. Fare winds to all of the solo riders out there (even that prickish little German boy, just kidding, head winds and downpours the whole way for him)!
What’s fascinating to me is the role you play in the connection determines what’s appropriate to suggest when you say goodbye. It’s not uncommon for a host to tell me that I am always welcome to return and for me to reciprocate in kind (you know, when I have a home). Some hosts have gone as far to imply that I didn’t have to leave, that, as far as they could tell, there is nothing stopping me from starting a life in their small town. Those are the ones that make my heart grow the most. In these last few weeks, there have been a few small towns in our massive country that I had to force myself to leave or else I never would complete my ride. But, alas, Zephyr’s gentle wind is always whispering sweet things in my ear about what is just down the road, and the wanderer in me feels compelled to explore her rumors.
What I love the most is meeting another solo bike tourist. There have been a few, at least on my end, that I have really hit it off with and, if I am truly honest, didn’t want to leave his or her company so soon. Whether it be Mike, traveling the country with his dog; the ever beautiful Rosie, a Brit who is pushing herself across America with great tenacity before her visa expires; Ron, a man few years older than me who is a touring legend as far as I’m concerned; Cat, a cheerful French Canadian whose smile could warm the earth if the sun ever went out; or Reed, whose maturity is beyond his age, all of these people are people that I wouldn’t mind one more day with, just one more chance to listen to their stories. The ironic thing is, is that because all of us came out here alone with our own trip in mind, none of us would ever dream of imposing on the other’s journey. We each value our own, so we wouldn’t dare ask someone else to change theirs. We share these wonderful moments of vulnerability and familiarity with one another to let go of it shortly after.
Albeit brief, it is the most beautiful example of platonic love I have ever experienced in my life, and if it were the only good that came from this trip, which it’s not, that would make every bit of worth it. Fare winds to all of the solo riders out there (even that prickish little German boy, just kidding, head winds and downpours the whole way for him)!
This post is titled "hugs and hamburgers." You have no mention of hamburgers, or actual mentions of hugs for that matter. What is this, click bait? 😉
ReplyDeleteSeriously, though, I'm so glad you met so many wonderful people and got to experience such strong, albeit brief, connections. I can understand how they felt so special.