Introduction

To begin, I need to explain the title. I know it sounds a bit strange and it is. Throughout my entire life I have always looked for adventures. From taking the road less traveled, even when I wasn’t completely sure it was a road, to attempting something completely beyond my skill set, I have never been afraid of the unknown. This is not to say that I am an adrenaline junkie, jumping out of perfectly sound aircraft or riding over waterfalls in a barrel. No, I value my life and want to live forever or die trying. Instead I try to find the adventures that await in everyday life. Things such as taking that less traveled road or cow path; kayaking that rapids, hopping on my bike and riding with no destination in mind or following that path through the woods just to see where it ends up. It even led me to buying a run down Canadian resort and moving a thousand miles to different country to run a business I only vaguely understood. It has led to places of unchallenged beauty, situations of chilling fear, the insides of burning buildings and adventures both vast and small. Still, there have been things left undone due to the need to put food on the table or honour promises made to those who depend upon them being kept.

One of those undone things was a desire to ride my bike across North America, from sea to shining sea, as the song goes. This idea was born at high school between four track team buddies back in 1969. We had no idea of how to do this thing or even the vaguest sort of information about what it would entail. We were young and full of that spirit that makes young men feel invincible. Unfortunately, aside from having bicycles and strong legs, we had zero funds and no so much as a road map. By the end of our senior year, the draft during the height of the Vietnam War or the need to pay for further education trumped any cross country adventures. Skip ahead past marriage, children, building a livelihood and finally retirement, to where there was time, knowledge and possibly the funds to undertake that journey. I made my decision, signed up for the trip and began to shape my plans. Then my heart stopped beating.

Just fresh from my 66th birthday and a physically fit, non-smoker with a healthy diet and no previous medical problems, I found myself in the back of an ambulance, huffing nitro. At the emergency room, I lay on my back, feeling incredibly sleepy and just getting to that pleasant mental state where a satisfying, deep sleep was creeping up from deep inside when wham, I am wide awake and in the moment with at least a half dozen people clustered around me asking me if I know where I am. My head clears and I am told that I was down, no heart beat and no breathing for about a minute or so. My chest feels like someone hit it with a sledge hammer and I am told they had to do chest compressions and use a defibrillator to bring me back from just the other side of death’s door. From that ER it was a bumpy ambulance ride through a snowstorm to the Ottawa Heart Institute for two stints, a few days of observation and a whole new set of perspectives on life. Yet another adventure for Bob but not one I ever dreamed of, let alone desired. My bicycle adventure seemed destined to be but an unfulfilled dream.

“Don’t be too hasty,” advised my cardiologist, “your trip is just over 3 months away and aside from nearly being deceased, you are in excellent shape.” “Let’s give it a couple of months, then we can talk again and make a more informed decision.” At first I was not sure I heard him correctly but as it turns out a near death experience need not be a dream killer. Still, I had much work to do to take that dream back to reality. First, I had to change my diet. It appears my genetic heritage makes my optimal cholesterol number a lot lower than most people’s. Next, I had a nice buffet of daily medications to take for the next 30 plus years or eternity, whichever comes first. Then I had to give my heart a chance to heal before beginning the gradual process of bringing by body back into shape for the adventure. Fortunately, my body was already fairly fit and while not some muscle bound superman, I was reasonably sound and healthy for a 66 year old guy. I could do this.

March 2, 2018

I got up just before 3am this morning and with the help of my brother-in-law Paul, made my way to Baltimore’s Thurgood Marshall Airport. While it would have been more convenient to fly out of Ottawa I would have needed to change planes twice to get to San Diego. Each time my bike would need to be unloaded, handled by the gentle folks at each airport and carefully placed upon the next plane. I could not foresee a good outcome for this procedure and given that I could fly for about one third of the cost out of Baltimore, my choice was clear.

At the airport my wife Chris helped me drag my bike and other gear into the terminal and with a quick check in and an even quicker but emotional goodbye, I was through the gate and into the loving arms of the TSA. After removing nearly everything but my smile, scaned and probed, I was deemed safe enough to fly. High winds from a nor’easter threatened to delay the flight but aside for a bumpy takeoff we were away clean and on time.

Things went smoothly on the ground in San Diego despite TSA opening my bike box for inspection but neglecting to replace the nylon straps I used to keep it secure. Fortunately, Alaska Airlines lived up to their reputation for handling sports equipment in a careful manner. The Airport Shuttle (airportshuttlesd.us) was there within minutes of knowing I was ready with a full sized SUV and a friendly driver. Definitely the easiest way to get bike and gear from the airport. While I waited for my room to be ready I un-boxed my bike and got everything put back together without a single hitch or damage. I am ready to roll come Monday morning.

March 4, 2018

Our group assembled today at the Point Loma Hostel. Some had already been here for a few days and had established relationships. Along with a few others I arrived in the afternoon. The group spans about two decades of ages and all have a good deal of cycling experience. A very friendly and welcoming bunch. After some get acquainted conversations and checking out each other’s bicycles we relaxed and waited for our official beginning at 4pm.

Cammie and Kelly, our tour leaders from Adventure Cycling, arrived right on time and after a brief meeting fixed a great dinner for the group. As we go through the weeks we will all take turns exercising our culinary muscles. Later we sat down for our daily map meeting to go over tomorrow’s route. The evening ended with a toast to fellowship, friendship, a safe and interesting ride and an epic journey.

Dale, Pete, Annette, Jim, Cammie, Kelly, Barb, Bill, Jorge, Marianna, Kevin, John and Alan will be my companions for the next 54 days. I look forward to the adventure we will share.