Day 10 - I give up...
Unadulterated:
What makes us who we are? What specific set of circumstances, genes, successes, failures and struggle leave us with the sum total of ourselves, and why do we always crave to be some other self who didn't have those experiences? More over, how much could we wish away and retain enough of this self to understand when those changes are enough to finally be happy, but still be enough of our former selves to not have different equally powerful cravings to be different?
Why are we not good enough?
Today was a wretched enough day that I simply didn't want to be me anymore. I came a hairs breadth away from quiting, and settling into a dark depression I could see looming, one in which I would harbor such hate for myself I might never come out.
I didn't really know what I wanted out of this trip before I left. I just felt the need to do it, not out of a sense of duty to God, or even to myself. It simiply felt necessary, but if you asked me I had no real reason, unlike the first trip. I'm not even sure if I was driven forward by ego, but I'm certain that was a part.
I know today what the purpose of this trip was:
I went for this moment, the breaking moment where proceeding forward is a choice of implacable determination, the ego thrown off, an imperative that must be seen through to the end.
Why?
Because of the hardship. Because of the worry. Because of the sense of being on the utter ragged edge hones our appreciation for our connection to others.
Yesterday I posted on facebook about one of the central mantras of Methodism, as I was attending a methodist church -- "Act justly, love mercy and walk humbly". I'm now living in a moment in which "walk humbly" has meaning I don't think I could understand otherwise. In my first trip I had to fight against myself to take the help of others. It's the side of humility we often don't talk about -- the humility of the reciever. We've all felt it, when someone offers something, we know we may need it but we protest and often have to be convinced into taking hold of whatever it may be. On my first trip my motto was "If someone is giving, I'm receiving", and I so often had to remind myself of that when someone extended a hand and my ego tried to bat it away.
Many deeply moving and important experiences and connections would have been overlooked or lost if I didn't walk humbly in being a reciever of the joyful gift others wanted to give.
I'm here now again, and my God if it doesn't hurt.
This time I think the lesson I'm supposed to learn is to be a humble asker. Not just to recieve what is offered unbidden, but to ask for the offering.
Today I asked a man, James, my host from the prior evening to take me thirty miles to get my front wheel fixed, because last night the bearings started to make the absolute worst noises and failure was imminent. He rearranged his whole morning to do this for me. Why do I deserve that? The truth is I don't, but he deserves to give a gift I can likely never repay, and in recieving it, I give one back. It's a moment in time, like a pearl plucked from an oyster, formed in hardship and uncomfortability but eventually turning into a beautiful object, a memory that we will both hold forever. I know he will cherish it the same as I cherish the stories and memories of my own giving, even when it was painful for me to give.
He left me in Chicago Heights at a bicycle shop where another man set the wheel to rights.
As I was leaving the shop my bike simply would not turn on. I pulled out the battery and it showed zero charge, even though it had charged all last night, and I had verified it was charging about an hour into it being plugged in.
This was the moment. A trip breaking moment. What do I even do?
Panic. Guilt. Waves of feeling stupid, under prepared, inadequate all washing over me simultaneously. All I knew is that thinking about coming home made me feel a sorrow I couldn't even fully express, like a part of me might die forever if I went home.
I made a few calls to the manufacturer of the bike and spoke with Chad, one of their techs who I've called so frequently in the past month we know eachother by voice and he knows I'm going across country. He confirmed that the error lights I was seeing indicated wter intrusion within the battery that likely caused an internal short. He said they didn't officially cover water issues, but that he was sending me a battery, he just needed to know where to send it. I told him I would call him back in 30 minutes, because my mind was racing about the possiblities.
Soon after my brother Oren, and his wife Amy called me back, trying to pick up a previous conversation about attempting to stay with one of their friends in Chicago. I told them the situation and they gave me the clear path forward: Arrange to have the battery shipped to my friend who is getting married, Bob, and then just figure out a way to get there. It should arrive at about the same time as the wedding, and so this seemed like the right way forward.
So I called Bob, who caught my when I burst out into tears, and graciously offered to be a landing pad. He also started to put out feelers to friends who may be able to help. Eventually he hooked me up with his friend Collin, who will be the officiant of the wedding and we're still developing some plan to get together in St. Paul (Minneapolis) where we can load the bike up in his Prius with a bike rack and head up to Bob together.
So my mission was to get to Minneapolis by hook or by crook with this bike in tow. How do you do that? Rent a uhaul? Well that would cost 700-1200 dollars -- not an option. Rent a car? Sure, but every number sends you to a website rather than a person and I needed a person. So after about 1hr of frantically trying to figure out how to get a vehicle to drive up to Minneapolis, I set up a reservation for a pickup at Hertz, 5.7 miles away.
If you don't know, a rear-hub ebike has significant motor drag when it's not powered. So it turns what would be a normal riding experience into what feels like bicycling through mud. Add on to that a heavy trailer behind me and it's a recipe for the most punishing 5.7 miles I might ever ride. But ride I must, and I only have one hour to do it.
So I mounted my unpowered bike and set off. At best I could get up to my third out of 7 gears, but mostly stayed in the first and second. I pedalled with grim determination, only making about 8 mph up and down the hills of Chicago heights towards the hertz pickup location. My ride was exacerbated by the fact that I had only eaten about 500 calories all day and it was 3pm and I was putting out maximal effort on the bike. I ate a Clif bar while hoofing it to try to keep my energy level up, and I must say I was genuinely surprised with how much my legs have strengthened. My former self could simply not have undertaken this task.
At the hertz agency while checking out I ran into a snag that they cannot complete the reservation for that vehicle without a credit card. Which I don't have, I only have my debit which is insufficient. So they suggest I attempt to do an online check-in which also fails when I attempt to use my debit, or the numbers for my Mother's credit card she graciously supplied. I've hit another dead end, seemingly.
However, upon talking to the ladies behind the counter if I reserve a full size car (think sedan) I can use my debit card, but since it's past 5pm neither I or they can reserve the car. I will have to come back tomorrow.
Ok.
So I start looking for hotels that are cheap nearby. A quality inn pops up at under $100 and it's 2 mi away. So I get back on the bike and hoof it to the hotel after calling and making sure they could accommodate me. I explicitly described needing a lower floor room because I had a bike.
When I arrived at the hotel the clerk begins the check in process and then I ask about how to get my bike into the only available 2nd floor room, and he looks over at it and tells me that I will need to park it outside. I was gobsmacked, as I had specifically asked about this very issue over the phone. So I left and in their parkinglot called up the holiday inn Express not far away and specifically asked about the bike. The lady on the line quizically wondered why it would have been an issue and told me to come on over.
So that's where I'm at right now. In a hotel room I didn't want to have to pay for, because I couldn't rent a car, because my bike broke down after it broke down... And broke down.
This is the same moment when my bike flipped over in Rawlins Wyoming, breaking a cyclocomputer and finally breaking me in the process. Ive spent so much on hotels and repairs that I'm almost tapped out. And though it pains me to ask, and I do so through tears, I know it's the act of walking humbly. I said to my wife "I will spend any amount of money to be closer to you" through teary eyes, but I never wanted to spend your money.
Yet here I am, depending on the great cloud of witnesses. The people to whom my story and my ride means something, to become uncomfortable for me, with me, and help me make it through this. My need is simple: I could use any amount you are able and willing to donate to help me through.
Some of you I don't know, and probably will never know but in some way what I'm doing has touched you. For others you already have a connection to me or one of my loved ones and you gift is to honor that, and I would recieve that in the love with which you intend it.
My part is to ask. Yours is to give if you can. But my hope is that in this we both walk away with a pearl, a memory that changes us to become more like the self we have always wanted to be, and more likely the self we already are but simply refuse to accept that we truly are.
From a practical standpoint how can you give:
If you know Rebekah personally, give to her and she will get it where it needs to go.
If you know my Mother or Father personally give to them and they can do the same.
If you only know me, or you don't know me at all but somehow my journey has caught your attention, please use the paypal donation link:
@TheMidlifeCryclist Donation page
Regardless of what occurs, I have set my mind to continue until I simply cannot or I am done. Thank you for being a part of this journey and supporting me in any way you can, whenever you can.