Discover America, it’s 3,000 Smiles Wide

This summer marks the 25th anniversary of my bicycle trip across the United States – from Florence, Oregon to Washington, DC, and to Boston, Mass.  I’m writing to remember and see what I can learn and share from the journey.

In 1970 I’m 14 years old growing up in beautiful Iowa. One of my favorite activities is to get on my bike and ride out of Coralville (all of about 8 blocks). I roll through gentle rolling farmland and feel the earth through my tires; breathe the soft, hazy blue sky; and drink in the wild wildflower colors spicing up acres of green. Or I’d ride to Nancy M’s or Deb D’s house.

One day, I see a billboard advertisement at the local recreation center for Amtrak passenger trains. I attempted to re-create it here! Something in it speaks to me and a seed is planted. I want to discover if the United States really is 3,000 smiles wide. I don’t even think of it as a bike trip. And I don’t do anything about it but I have that feeling in my belly that I want to and I will do this. The Law of Attraction, sometimes known as the “Be Careful What You Ask For” Law begins to work.

I LIVE Here???

I grow up, go to college, meet and marry Mike, and move to San Diego with him. And I still don’t remember this dream. I ride my bicycle all around San Diego, La Jolla, and along the coast by Torrey Pines State Park. I finish at UC San Diego. Soon we move to Pebble Beach and I ride through the amazing seascapes framed with cypress, rocks, and seals. I cover Monterey, Pacific Grove, Carmel, Carmel Valley, and Big Sur on cold, grey winter days and fresh, early summer mornings. I play recordings of piano concerts while I ride alongside crashing foamy white waves, turquoise water, stately pelicans, sandpipers, piles of lichen-crusted rocks, and fleshy ice-plant. I’m at home on my bike – by moving and being in nature. I’ve begun to discover America.

While my work life as a tech support manager and software engineer is quite stressful and miserable (it’s not at all on purpose for me), and my marriage is a bit clumsy and unsatisfying (we are 22 with no clue, and thousands of miles from our families), my bike and camera keep me grounded and sane.   Things take a turn for the worse in ‘82, and I soon find myself taking refuge on my wheels.