Walking Through the Night (The Entire Night) With Two 13-year Old Boys—They Are My New Heroes!! Our Boys Can Do So Much More Than We Give Them Credit For
We knew we were headed in the right direction. We had a map and a compass. We knew there was no chance to get too lost. We knew this area so well. But we kept doubting ourselves.
It was nearly midnight as we ascended up the hill to reach the plateau. We had already been walking for five hours—Wexler (my son), JP (his friend), and me. At this point, it was unclear if we were on the correct path. We had walked this stretch several times before. But it felt different. The final water crossing, the one we expected would be up to our waist, was much tamer. Although the water was running at a fierce pace, we were able to scurry across the boulders in the flooded creek on all fours, without really walking through the rapid current. This was so much different from last year. Last year, we literally raised our bags above our heads as we waded through the waist deep water, careful not to step on any rocks or trip on any submerged boulders which would cause us to fall into the freezing water.
On January 7, 2020, I was going about 60 km down a hill in a remote part of Australia when I got the speed wobbles (also called a death wobble) where the bicycle starts to violently shake back and forth. That is about all I remember because after that I lost consciousness. Apparently, I flew over my bicycle on my head (yes, I was wearing a helmet) and slid on my face breaking my four front teeth. My partner was ahead of me. He said I started screaming as I was flying. He turned around to watch me sliding. I do not remember anything until about half an hour later when four strangers were standing over me. I was air lifted to the hospital.
In August 2019, I was interviewed by, in my opinion, one of the best podcasters out there; Sarah Williams of the Tough Girl Podcast.
I am a 49 year old gypsy cyclist. I am cycling around the world absorbing what I can from the experience of traveling through countries that are so foreign to what I know. While I am limited by language—meaning that I do not speak local languages—I learn so much just by taking the journey.
It is four hundred miles down the coast of Oregon from the very north to the border of California—a combination of dramatic beauty with a harsh and grueling environment with sweeping winds in an extremely remote landscape. Who would want to spend time in this testing environment?
It is the middle of the night. I am in the tent at a campground on the Oregon Coast. It is cold and I do not want to get up. But I have to pee. I open the zipper of the tent. There is a flap from the outer cover where it is possible to keep our backpacks while we sleep. Our backpacks are gone.
We take a bus from Portland, Oregon to Warrenton and start walking. It is a dark day and it beings to rain. After about 6 miles, we stick out our thumb and a nice gentleman gives us a ride to the campground. People are incredibly friendly here.
Perhaps the greatest thrill of being alive for me is the element of surprise.
I did not always know this.
I am five weeks into a six week adventure through Mexico before I return to my bicycle in Malaysia to continue a worldwide bicycle tour.
I have spent the last 48 hours in some sort of personal torture to meet my self imposed deadline to complete this blog post. In this time I have threatened to not only cancel the entire blog, but to abandon my larger project; a year long labor of love.