Day 2 of what is supposed to be the longest journey of my life and I’m at the end of a road.
The plan, idea, whatever you want to call it, was to ride my bicycle from Logan, Utah to Santiago Chile. A journey that, despite my best efforts, could not be planned on Google Maps. The idea was hatched years earlier as something that would be pretty awesome to do and now I was attempting to get ‘er done.
I had dreamed of this adventure for a few years, but dreaming and planning are two quite different things. I happen to be good at the first and surprisingly shitty at the second. My planning had consisted of a start date and more or less that I should be in Chile by February. At least that was when I was supposed to start school in Santiago. Drawing a loose line from Logan down to Santiago on a map was what I defined as a route. I knew the countries I would need to go through, but beyond that there was no concept of where the hell I was going. That is how I wanted it. An adventure, me riding my bicycle into the sunset.
And now I was at the end of a road.
I have always found roads interesting, especially those that seem to randomly end at nowhere. Roads are built for a purpose and if that purpose is to get me somewhere that I have no purpose being, well, that is an odd road.
I-70 in Utah is a fine example. This interstate begins in Maryland and follows a fairly straightforward route west passing through Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Kansas and Colorado. After almost 3500 miles from the east coast, it just ends at I-15 in Utah. Yup, it comes to a T and you either go north or south but you can’t continue west. As you come to the end of this road, a large mountain looms ahead of you. A mountain that makes you wonder how you are going to continue in your given direction. And then you are forced to go a different way. It’s the end of a road.
I was standing at the end of a road that terminated under I-70. Next to me was a tower that looked to be some sort of old airport tower, but I’m guessing it was more likely to have been used for rodeo announcing. I had been following Highway 89 and in my jubilee to be descending, I had failed to notice that 89 intersects I-70 and then the two combine until 89 peels off and heads toward Sevier just before the end of I-70. At this point, I should have been on State Route 50, but that would have required I make a right hand turn about five miles ago.
The sun was setting and I was spent.
I found a flat spot next to the tower and rolled out my sleeping bag. The dull hum of car tires roaring by on the freeway above me quickly became a lullaby. My sleeping pad felt amazingly thin as I attempted to get warm while cooking myself some rice. I pulled out my Nokia cell phone and looking for some comfort, I called my wife. Marcella answered and no, Veronica was not there and she wasn’t sure when she would return. I hung up and sobbed. Everyone who had done long distance bicycle touring told me there would be a day when I would feel like giving up, but I had no idea that day would be day 2.
Here I was in the middle of a state where I had spent almost the entirety of my life and I had missed a turn that was going to cost me about ten miles. I was sleeping on a cement slab next to a rodeo announcing tower from days long past and I was alone. My sleeping bag stuck to the sweat that covered my body but I was too cold to not be inside. Bugs were swarming around me. I finished cooking my rice and then tried to eat it. My body was not interested in nourishment as my electrolytes were brutally out of balance meaning I was thirsty but over hydrated at the same time. Those were some of the most uncomfortable moments of my life.
I fell asleep, as it was the only solace I could find.
Unfortunately this was September and the sunset was early. I woke up to that same lullaby that had put me to sleep and found that now the moon was up and I had a long night ahead of me. My mind drifted in and out of consciousness. My thoughts racing between what lay ahead and what it was that I was trying to elude. Both directions took me to a place that I did not want to be, much less think about. I felt my life was I-70 coming up to what I thought would be an uphill battle but when I arrived there was no going forward. I was forced to choose left or right without any indication that either way would take me to where I hoped to arrive