In 2017, I set out on the grandest adventure I had ever imagined. I rode a bicycle, solo and unsupported, from Boston Harbor to the Pacific Ocean. I rode 3,600 miles over 2 ½ months, across a dozen mountain ranges, through 900 miles of desert, and in temperatures as high as 120°F (49°C).
2017 in black, 2021 in blue
I had never done anything like it before, and I needed to know if I was capable. At the time, I felt lost in my career, I missed my life in California, and I worried that I didn’t understand my own country after a tough election. Along the way, I fell in love with the freedom of human-powered movement, I faced great disappointment, and I discovered great power within myself.
It wasn’t a perfect journey; it was a journey. In 2017, my then-perfectionist, every-inch approach failed when, in the face of mortal danger, I was forced to skip Kansas. I was devastated at the time, but ultimately my detour unlocked my greatest learnings. I found humility by accepting that I can’t always be in control, and I experienced the beauty of community: that my journey, then and always, doesn’t belong only to me.
Follow the Journey
