On the brink

Tomorrow I ride into Boston - and after 4,350 miles I still can't believe it. I could have made it there today (Thursday) but I wanted to savor this last bit just a bit more. Not to mention yesterday was the hardest day of riding I've had since northern Michigan, and I wanted to have a couple of short fun rides to remember the whole thing by. And not to mention, it's so much more exciting to arrive with a hurricane!

It's been exciting all week to ride across the Berkshires, despite the crazy heat-wave that really took it out of me yesterday (I won't go into the details, but my butt was suffering...). I love how different the landscape is, and how different the built structures are here from everywhere else I've been. And more great signs, of course.

Beyond the joy and bewilderment I feel at being very nearly done with this joyful and bewildering journey & series of adventures I've had, I am struck with amazement at connecting with people I care about. On Monday in Albany I got to have lunch with Ken Smith, who was my across-the-street neighbor as a kid but even more importantly a partner-in-crime on road trips to the UP when we were in high school (which launched my love of camping, and fed my love of adventure in general). Today in Waltham I got to have lunch with Josh Lawton, brother of my former housemate Sarah, who I hadn't seen since Camilo was a toddler. On Saturday I get to hang out with Jonah Varon, Myra & Charlie's son, who goes to school in Cambridge... and I'm staying this weekend with Jenni Lopez, my former colleague from working at META those many years ago. This continent is pretty wide (and covered with corn, pretty much everywhere east of Idaho), but it seems sort of small at the same time...

And lest you think that's as sappy as I get: I got to spend an evening & a morning with Janis Totty, who found me through this blog more than 30 years after her family moved away from Michigan. She and her partner Janet live in Northampton, which is why I changed my route to Mass. instead of Maine - I had to see her. We talked for hours, of course, but we also drove through fields and by the river, and stood outside to look at the sky - and saw an enormous shooting star fly across the constellations. It was that kind of night. The thing is, this wasn't just nostalgia - though there's enormous power in remembering how much you loved somebody long ago. We have so many things in common, still. To a certain extent it just seemed obvious, that we'd be friends I mean. That we still are.

And this whole thing isn't even over. I need to ship my bike home this weekend, so that part of the adventure will have to end - but I'm not quite done with this journey-ing stuff, because there's still those five days in St Paul before I go home again...