Palm Trees On The Eve Of The Final Ride - Waycross, Georgia

Above: Palm trees at a main intersection of highways in Waycross, Georgia.

An Evening in Waycross, Georgia

My allergy symptoms continued and today was a particular rough day. Even with taking daily pills of Loratadine (the generic tablet for the brand name of Claritin), I was still a mess with a runny nose, itchy eyes and sneezing. The windiness of the day and the many blooming plants obviously were contributing factors. With my life history of allergies woes, I probably would have been worse without taking those pills!

Waycross is situated as a gateway to the nearby Okefenokee Swamp, and it seemed some of the local economy was focused toward serving visitors. If I had a car or knew someone in town, I would have loved to have spent a day to explore the swamp and rest, but alas, this was my ongoing plight as a man with a mere bicycle. Then again, could I have really taken a day off knowing I was so close to the ocean? Naaaaaaaah.

The evening was shockingly warm - it was still 81 at 8 p.m.! Oh my goodness! In Buena Vista, Colorado, mid-March is at the height of snowfall season and temperatures in the 40's is a big deal around that time. We do not reach the 80's (as our high, mind you) until middle to late June. It was humid too and what a wonderful novelty it was to walk around with all that moistness and warmth relaxing my muscles.

I had more good fortune: Palm trees made an appearance again on the bike journey! Remember my photos of admiration of palm trees back in southern California and Arizona? Well, they were back in Waycross! Palm trees brought back memories of my early days of the trip ...

The Art of Remebering and Memories

By this point, physically, all I wanted to do was end this trip; Emotionally, the novelty of riding across America was long gone; Mentally, I had financial costs to worry about and the knowledge I would be facing all my problems back home again soon.

Still, I knew this was a momentous point in the trip. The actual "doing" of my adventure was ending and I wanted to remember this trip the way it was with no exaggerations. Nothing more, nothing less. Sometimes my mind has done tricks on past life experiences, either distorting them or leaving out significant details that belie just how difficult or enjoyable an experience was.

I worried the same could happen on this trip. Those strong winds in west Texas that pushed me 126 miles could become a massive tornado warning with gale winds pushing me to speeds up to 50 mph. Those loose dogs in southeast Arkansas could become hungry pitbulls who ran with me for miles and miles down the road. And the strangers I encountered now and then - the stories could turn into each of them pulling me out of a terrible depressive funk where I was on the verge of quitting in oh so dramatic fashion!

As a portion of my spirit shined with what I was accomplishing, I tended to forget much of the physical aches and tiredness. An anxiety within compelled me to record many of my thoughts and experiences, and the same theme continued to arise: The physical demands, not feeling like getting out of bed in the morning, and feeling slothful at the 5-10 mile mark of a day's ride when my body had not warmed up yet. There was an inner dialogue that insisted I remember: Don't forget to mention the monotony! Make sure you write down about how lonely and tedious most rides were! Be sure to emphasize the uninspiring lifestyle of low-end motels, convenience stores and eating out as well! The daily reality was a mix of fun and boredom, but there was usually a lot more boredom.

What a mix of memories it was alright. All that monotony and exhaustion, and yet I wanted to make sure that I remembered the positive things too. The beautiful scenery and even the not-so-interesting scenery where I had profound moments of achievement, happiness, laughter or a good connection with another person. I hope I do not forget those smaller events: Riding fast on the long 4,000 foot descent from Julian into the Anza Borrego Desert (Day 2), gazing at saguaros as my spirit soared with hope and optimism riding into Phoenix (Day 8), that impressive and mainly uphill ride through high desert and plains to Carrizozo (Day 18) and watching the sunset in Tatum, New Mexico (Day 20). The people too - Jennifer meeting with me in Julian, CA, Glenda and her family, Cheyenne, Charles and all those people in Mississippi. (There is no way I could mention everyone here.)

Fresh from graduating college in 1994, I drove across the country from the Northeast to explore the nation for the first time. Today all I have to show is a photo album of confusing pictures that do not mean much because I forgot the stories behind them. I even journaled but my writings provide only a few small pieces of the puzzle. Who was that person? Why in the world did I take that boring photo? And what the heck was I doing there? :p)

As best as I could, I would not let memory deterioration happen to this adventure. When the ride ended, all I would have are my photos, writings and memories ... which over time will become memories of my memories. I decided early that a journal with a page dedicated to each day would be the best strategy to counteract this.

I looked up at those windblown palm trees in Waycross and thought about these matters over what I would remember, but I did not think too long about it. These allergies were tormenting me and I needed to get inside quickly!