It’s a mirage, adventure. The countless variables, unwavering focus, and high stakes. The ultimate trio, luring me from my daily routine into the realm of uncertainty – the realm of hungry ghosts, demons, and ego.
My legs churned the gears of my bike into submission, one rotation after another. It was Day 13. I had been battered, lost, sleep-deprived, and pushed harder physically and mentally than ever before. The end was near. I surged across the finish line that I’d constructed in my mind. I had done it.
But there was no parade. There was no one waiting. There was nothing. Nobody cared. It was pointless.
Months earlier I had dreamed up a selfsupported adventure to bike north-to-south across Washington State, from the US/Canada border to the Columbia River, a…