Le Tour de Dyslexia: Hells Yeah

Ok, by now I assume everyone who would be reading this is aware of the not so successful and slightly embarrassing end to the tour. I don't, though, intend on dedicating a whole post to excusing our decisions and attempting to convince the reader that they would have made the same decisions had they been in our predicament.

I am now almost three months removed from the tour as well as the excitement, the pain, the thrill, and the disappointment; all of which I can no longer feel but only remember. Needless to say, I will never again truly exist in the moments of that tour, but I will forever have it as a memory. What specifically, though, will I remember about it? I will remember the anxiety, the excitement, the freedom, and the potential felt as we took our first few pedals out of the neighborhood, out of Delaware, and eventually out of the known. I will remember how great it felt when everything was going right, our bodies were fresh, and the tour played its planned role as an escape from the riggers and tedium of a life stuck in a daily routine. I will also remember the unexpected: the rain, the flat tires, the ruined tires, how long it actually takes to ride a bike with 40 pounds of gear on it 80 miles, and the hills that when only on a map didn't shout the obvious, "We are big, we are many, and we will destroy you!"

Was the tour as I imagined it would be? Absolutely not. It was far more difficult, stressful, and trying than I ever could have imagined, but in turn, it was far more beautiful, awful (solemnly impressive; inspiring awe), and fulfilling than I ever could have imagined.

Would I ever attempt another tour? Hells Yeah! Although this tour was planned to be the end-all be-all of tours, it turned out to simply be a learning experience, and learn I did. Hopefully with my newly gained knowledge I can avoid some of the more simple disasters of this previous tour. For instance I am now aware of every single way to pop a tire tube and can easily avoid most of them in the future. I also learned to expect the unexpected: there will be wrong turns, there will be five flat tires in two hours instead of the very reasonable one flat tire, there will be monster hills, and there will even be monster hills in heavy rain.

Will I ever go on another tour? Who knows? Right now with the start up of my final year of school I will, once again, be immersed in the daily routine. That makes my, most likely, next breath of freedom not until summer. But then what? At that point in my life I will, for the first time, no longer have an expected path to follow. I will be free to do as I please.

As I proofread this post I am struck by a, now all to obvious, parallel between the tour and my future. Recently, I have been experiencing sentiments that could be referred to as a "quarter life crisis", which mostly revolve around the question "What the hell am I going to do with my life after college?" I still do not know what I am going to do, but I do know what to expect. At first it will most likely be filled with a sense of anxiety, excitement, freedom, and potential as I venture out into the unknown. I know there will be good times and there will be bad times. There will be obstacles and there will be beauty. And without a doubt there will be the unexpected. There will be wrong turns and there will be seemingly unbearable setbacks, yet not all of the unforeseen is bad. Around every turn and atop every hill there will be new people, places, and experiences. There will be potential and there will be growth. Will I always succeed? No. Will I take in the journey and have a good time? Hells yeah.