That’s it then.
The cycle computer clicks over to 7350kms and its all over. And I can’t say that it is a day too soon. There comes a time when you are sick of getting up each day and packing away all your stuff, taking down the tent and eating canned fruit and yogurt for breakfast. Only to have to get it all out again 130kms up the road, put up the tent and then repeat all those repetitive tasks that are the backbone of organised cycle touring. You have to be organised to ride across a continent as large as this negotiating all the hiccups along the way, never resorting to taking a vehicle ride and still managing to get to the end in time to catch your flight home. But for me I know that 6 weeks is generally enough. The problem is that at times countries / continents are more than a 6 week trek across.
This will be my last post on this adventure. Adi and I are at the Halifax International airport and importantly not only are we still talking too each other but I know that there aren’t many women out there that could do what she has done in the last 9 weeks and still have the strength to lift their 23kg bike bag onto the scales at check-in. I’m certainly lucky to have nabbed her when I did back in 1983 and to have had so many cycle adventures together.
If there was a pedestal at the airport and a medal I’d stand her on it and take her picture. Then post it on the social media sites like all the others you see. But you don’t get medals or grand publicity for this sort of achievement and perhaps that’s the way I like it. It will be a sad day when cycle touring joins that sort of circus.
But once again Adi, because I know you will read this, welcome to the transcontinental cycle club. No medals but you certainly deserve one.
O and what are we having for dinner tonight.
We confirmed our flights yesterday and were told we will have to pay an additional $50 dollars bike handling fee for each bike, surprise surprise. But what wasn’t anticipated was to find airport security busy trying to load the bikes into a van when we left the terminal building for the ride back to the airport motel. Their dastardly plan was foiled by the weight of the bikes and gear and their lack of understanding on the dynamics of a fully loaded touring bike. They couldn’t make the quick getaway they normally would with a passenger’s baggage and had to admit defeat and tell us to ‘just not do it again’.
So that’s about it.
Back home to the more comfortable routine of home improvements, bike shop work, and because the Paris-Brest –Paris is on the horizon, a bit of randoneuring and racing.
I will need a racing bike!
I think maybe my retro Raleigh Panasonic with a new Shimano Dura-Ace groupset. (Hope the bike shop will take me back.)