FCBA Day 63- Bellingham Washington to Vancouver British Columbia

 

We had a casual ride to the Canadian border where we stopped for coffee and pastries as the group -reassembled. I donned my celebration shorts, we shot a little bit of video for the FCBA 2014 promotion trailer, and we headed to Peace Arch entry. There we were scrutinized by the Canadian border patrol and allowed entry. We were met by our native guides who explained the rather complicated route we were going to take on our way to Vancouver. Our first stop was the beach for the front wheel dipping ceremony as we officially reached the Pacific Ocean. Bret took it further, riding his bicycle as far as possible toward Hawaii, while others went for a full body dip. We then lined up for photos, and Melissa had a few words for each of us in appreciation for our contributions. We prayed in thanks while remembering of the others who were participants earlier the ride, as well as those of congregations along the way who helped us so much. Then it was on to Vancouver.

This day, by itself, was an adventure. Our route took us down dead end roads that continued only as gravel ruts requiring we walk and then over bridges of all sorts and a very unusual route of sidewalks and bicycle paths. There was no way any of us could have made the route without direct guidance, so we remained a cohesive group through the city. This made for very slow travel, probably averaging 6mph overall with all the stops to regroup after hills and traffic signals that spread us out.

It seemed to go on forever. I had two flats, a near crash into a concrete barrier and a “zeromph”. Zeromph is a word I coined and was widely adopted and practiced by all during the ride. It is a painful and embarrassing moment when you come to a stop and can’t get your feet out of the pedals, just flopping over onto the ground un-gracefully; a zero mile-per-hour crash. This sometimes happens when narrow tires stop in soft ground, or stop rolling while struggling on hills, or when I miscalculate the acceleration of the rider in front and cross my front wheel with his rear, as I did in this case. Though the route was carefully planned and charted we had great difficulty finding our way. We finished the 35 miles in around 5 hours, just as the group was grumbling mutinously and some actually abandoned us to successfully head off on their own. I was seriously considering dropping into one of the local hotels along the way just to end the ordeal. It certainly was a great moment as we arrived at the Vancouver Church of Christ and suddenly everything was just fine. Kert’s sisters were there with a banner for him, as was Kristi’s sister who met us. It was very thoughtful of them to go through the effort to travel here to join the celebration.

My bicycle is now in the trailer and my luggage will be soon as I prepare to fly home. I’m disposing of these things that were so valuable to me along the way but have outlived their purpose. I packed too much for this trip and jettisoned much, lost more, wore out still more…and still my bag is overstuffed. I am re-evaluating what I need in life, and have learned to consider living far more simply and fully.

These blogs are more an account of my travels through this land and barely express where I’ve really been; places within myself just as amazing as the landscape. It will take time for me to reflect on all I’ve been through and perhaps write about- this experience has had a profound influence on me that my words haven’t revealed, and maybe I’ll share them soon, but one thing is certain; it is only the beginning of This American Adventure.