Season 4. Episode 22. Final Day & End of Adventure Reflections.

Season 4. Episode 22. Final Day & End of Adventure Reflections.

For those of you who like numbers (as I do), here is a quantitative snapshot to consider:

4,049 miles biked compared to:

• 2,065 (Pacific Coast, Canada to Mexico ‘23) 
• 2,667 (East Coast, Maine to Florida ’22) 
• 2,970 (Southern Tier, California to Florida ’21)

115,122’ accumulated elevation gain (sum of Strava) compared to:

• 104,995’ (Pacific Coast) 
• 70,676’ (East Coast)
• 85,070’ (Southern Tier)

64 days of riding! (and 4 days of rest)

63 miles average per riding day, (past years averages were 53, 72 & 65)

15 pounds weight lost – 8 by Heather and 7 by Mark (Heather should have eaten more ice cream and donuts!)

8 nights with “Warm Showers”, and 5 nights at friends

3 falls – all me.

ZERO days of rain on riding days - truly a miracle, and we did pray daily for weather! (a bit of rain on 2 rest days)

ZERO flat tires between us – not a miracle, it’s the Schwalbe Marathon Plus tires – and we prayed daily for the tires too.

And some qualitative reflections:

As I sit at my home desk, still in pajamas at 12:15pm, just 24 hours after we biked home, I am looking outside at the rain and still cannot believe we never cycled in rain. It’s unfathomable to me. 

The last 36 hours were a very special finish. 

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 9/24/24

It was our 4th highest climbing day with some steep grades (and within 200’ of being our 2nd highest) from Elizaville to Purdys. 

Climbing in Dutchess County.

Riding by one of the many paddocks in horse country.

We were hosted by a very special WarmShowers couple. Bart and Jenny only host - meaning they only “give” to the community, they don’t “receive/take”. It was a difficult climb to their home, and we were rewarded with stunning views of the NY reservoirs, and treated to a delicious home cooked meal and warm hospitality that at the end of the evening felt like a stay with good friends. As we went to be bed, the realization that we were already in Westchester County, a mere 36 miles from home, felt unreal. We could have been picked up, driven home to sleep in our own bed, and then driven back here in the morning to resume the final day. But that’s not how we roll and we would have missed out on a wonderful evening.  

*     *     *

9/25/24

About 3 months ago, I shared our proposed itinerary with Kelly who leads Team Reeve at the Reeve Foundation. With the end date of 9/25, she said oh you’ll end on Chris’ birthday. I wondered to myself who is Chris? As we continued to talk, I was still wondering and then it clicked. I asked her: “when you said Chris, did you mean Christopher Reeve?” She confirmed yes and we had a laugh as she had said Chris so casually. 

Over the course of our journey, at several times when we wanted more rest or gave up a day of rest, I was driven by the idea of finishing on his birthday. It was a huge motivation even before we knew the documentary “Super/Man” about him would be in theaters on 9/25. I feel my own special relationship with him that is kind of eerie. After we first associated with the Reeve Foundation, I learned Christopher Reeve died in the Emergency Department of Northern Westchester Hospital (NWH) in Mt. Kisco in October 2004. Well just 3 years and 3 months later, in January 2008, I suffered a severe hockey injury while playing hockey near there and was brought by ambulance to that same Emergency Department in NWH in Mt. Kisco. In that same ER, I had a leg saving surgery with 2 plates & 23 screws implanted. (I had a second surgery there 2 years later to remove the plates and 19 of the 23 screws.) So, in the very same place where he died, I had my mobility saved, my life changed, and my capacity for empathy enhanced. It was significant to me to finish on his birthday. 

After 45 minutes of riding from Purdys, we passed a landmark in Katonah. The Harvey School hockey rink is where I suffered that leg injury in January 2008. This was my first time back past here since then.

Seven minutes later, we came to the sign for Pound Ridge – where Christopher Reeve last lived. We considered making a detour there but did not. It was close enough and felt like it was all part of being on the right path.

In Bedford, we were greeted by our “motorcade”. Our very good friends Stu and Kevin met us in Bedford to ride with us. Stu guest rode with us on 2 previous cross-country rides, flying to join us in New Mexico in 2021 and California in 2023.

Stu could only ride a short distance with us due to a recent injury. As we rode further with Kevin, it was very weird. It did not feel like our cross-country ride as I have cycled several times with him before on Bedford Road and our route back through Armonk and Harrison. Kevin told me I’m safe now because if my bike fails me, he will give me his to finish, like support riders do for the team leader in the Tour de France.

Kevin peeled off to head home and leave Heather and me to finish with about 10 miles to go. As we passed all our local landmarks (our kids’ high school and then their elementary school, and the local bike shop with a sign on the door that it was closed), we came to the final mile. We had both pictured this ride to the shoreline before. Unlike the finishes of the past 3 big rides that were to end points that we’d never seen, this finish was to a spot that we had visualized well: the Long Island Sound. We often walk there after dinner, kayak there regularly, and Heather jogs by 4 times a week. Yet despite the familiarity, we were so excited - our skin started tingling from the moment we entered Larchmont.

And then we came to the last turn, and approached the “finish line”. I didn’t expect to well up with tears – but that’s exactly what happened. I felt the surge of emotion seeing the faces of our friends and hugging our son Matt and then our daughter Sydney. And then Alan from the Reeve Foundation who was there to greet us, just as he had on our first cross country ride in St. Augustine, FL in 2021 and again in Key West, FL in 2022. 

Thank you to all who made our homecoming special. What an emotional ending – we actually did it.

We rode EFI. In the cycling touring world, EFI stands for “Every F---ing Inch”. On bike tours, EFI riders never go in the sag wagon. They ride every inch of each day, on their bike; and they ride every stage. We did it! From Bellingham, WA we powered our own way on 2 wheels all the way home and rode EFI!  

Crossing the “finish line” and we felt overcome with emotion.

I felt my surge of tears when Matt put his arms around me.

We dipped our front tires into Long Island Sound, a ceremonial tradition for cross country riders; we had dipped our rear tires into the water in Bellingham, WA at the outset.

We enjoyed a champagne toast, and received more welcoming hugs and warm greetings.

What next? For starters Heather and I chose to bike the 1.5 miles home! Why not. And yes as Kevin said, we are crazy enough to do it with our panniers rather than have our kids drive them for us.

It felt really weird being home. After showering in what felt like somebody else’s bathroom, I put on different clothes for the first time in 10 weeks that felt truly as if I was wearing somebody else’s clothes. Walking on the street in town to a restaurant for lunch, and later on for dinner – it felt in both cases, like we were visiting a new town. We’ve been changing places just about daily for so long, it felt like one more, new stop in the parade of ever-changing places.

Glancing back at previous blog posts, looking at the daily route maps, and scanning the thousands of photos, it doesn’t feel like one trip but two of equal length. It feels like there was a trip of 34 days from Bellingham, WA to Fargo, ND. That was full of huge vistas of the western states, big mountains, vast distances between cities, the fire detour, smoke from fires, and punishing and draining headwinds. But what we realized over time since then is that perhaps the most difficult challenge of all was a sort of loneliness. Not absolute loneliness as we had each other. And we met some extraordinary people including only 1 WarmShowers host in those first 34 days. But a loneliness nonetheless from our community, from loved ones, from friends. 

Then there was the second trip of 34 days from Minnesota home. While it was indeed significantly flatter, and we only rode slightly more mileage each day, the game changer was that on 15 of the last 33 nights, we stayed with WarmShowers (7) or with friends or saw friends (8). It was a huge contrast. 

The first trip was rugged – we saw moose, buffalo, prairie dogs, and crossed the Continental Divide through snowcapped peaks over the epic Going to the Sun Road. We ate in saloons, and old diners where we could feel the springs in the torn booth seat popping up into our rear end. The second trip featured the Mississippi headwaters, Great Lakes, Niagara Falls, and great bike trails, but most importantly, it offered us nurturing support. 

In the well documented National Geographic Blue Zones, regions where people live the longest, one of the most important factors for long life is community – loved ones and a tribe of friends, basically relationships. We couldn’t agree more! Trip 2 vs trip 1. And of course, now back home to a truly special community!

In the Michael J Fox classic “Back to the Future”, the Enchantment Under The Sea Dance was the high school dance in 1955 where Marty McFly's parents George and Lorraine fell in love after their first kiss. When Marty (Michael) went back in time in Doc’s flying DeLorean, he initially disrupted the social situation and then needed to make sure he didn’t disrupt that kiss sequence or he would never be born. So, what if Heather and I could travel back in time to day 3 of the trip when we rode on State Road 20 in Washington, and approached the road closing due to the forest fire. On that day, we met a super nice guy who was going to allow us through the closing until the senior fire bossman would not let us through. For the next several hours, I had thought of all the things I could have said that were more compelling and appealing, and could have resulted in him allowing us through. But I let it go for us to move on. But what if now I could go back in time and say all those clever things and achieve a different outcome of being allowed through? Would I? 

Not for a second! I wouldn’t change a thing. We had the trip we had. It was awesome – with all its various challenges and mishaps. We met incredible people, kind people, down-to-earth people, genuine people. People who restore faith in humanity when following the news cycle makes that difficult. One of those many people was Stu from Washington, who is paralyzed from the waist down, and was riding an adapted mountain bike. He trained with an organization benefitting from the Reeve Foundation’s Quality of Life grants. Our random meet up with him was a very special highlight for us.

When confronted with an obstacle like that closed highway, in life too, the answer sometimes is to retreat, retrace your steps, and advance on another path forward and make that an incredible path. Heather and I had a similar experience in Utah in 2020 when hiking in a slot canyon that was blocked from a fallen boulder. Then too, the answer was to reverse, retrace, and find another way forward that was at first not apparent.

In Minneapolis, we saw the wonderful mural, titled kaleidoscopic Bob Dylan. It shows a young and old Dylan and an age in between, with his own immortal words as a title: the times they are a-changin’. (Episode 15) Since seeing that, I’ve wondered a number of times what would kaleidoscopic Mark Segal look like as I age from young to old, and try to cling to my youth or at least prove to myself that I still have my full energy force and vitality?

Young Mark Segal, around age 26 in 1989, doing a 4-day fund raising bike ride of about 330 miles for Juvenile Diabetes. The anchor of kaleidoscopic Mark Segal. Yes indeed, the times they are a changing – and the hairline too!

At the risk of repeating past end-of-adventure sentiments, we are so thankful. Maybe since we were away twice as long as last year – we are twice as thankful – if such is possible for:

• Our good health that allows us to ride daily 
• The health and love of our adult children Sydney, Jamie & Matt who support our dreams as we do theirs
• Sydney uploading my content from email into a blog in beautiful format and sending email alerts
• Our careers that afforded us this time to be away
• The welcome by strangers in the loving, giving, trusting WarmShowers community
• The loving support, Strava kudos, encouragement from family and friends. I appreciate every single blog comment though did not reply back to each due to time demands.
• Ken to whom we feel forever indebted - for that phone call in Spring 2021 that instilled the confidence in us to try this on our own and ride self-supported. Did you ever suspect that you unleashed a monster?
• Our local bike shop, 10538 Bicycles, and the many bike mechanics on the road who kept us riding and making adjustments and repairs we could not do. 
• The Reeve Foundation – while we help in your fundraising and awareness campaign, you help us by educating us, helping us grow and giving purpose to our riding ambition.
• The generosity of so many of you! Family, friends and complete strangers have donated over $37k (plus some unreported gifts and matching gifts still to come) to the Reeve Foundation to help care for and cure spinal cord injuries. Donations may still be made here.
• Lastly – to Lenny and Ernie who inspire us by your example of living positively in the face of continuing adversity of paralysis. You helped us get this done! 

A sign from 9/24 in Elizaville, NY that expresses the gratitude Heather and I are feeling.

© Copyright Mark Segal 2024.