Before the First Revolution
As much as this time has been a long time coming, it still feels incredible and a little surprising that it is already here. We packed (ok, overpacked) our Rocinante and made our way to Virginia. On the way out, it helped to get some final bon voyage wishes (thanks Natalka, Chopa, Renee, Julie, Gary, Christie, Dan). Leaving home was a big step in starting the journey, but it’s hard to feel too bewildered given the fortunate ability to stay with my sister Sonia and her family in Richmond for the first few days of the ride. I guess our big step is into the shallow end of the pool.
Today, the day before the planned start, Paul and I drove to Yorktown to do a little reconnaissance. In addition to giving us one less thing to worry about tomorrow, we were able to find a meeting point for the friends that will be seeing us off tomorrow. Driving out of Yorktown on the Colonial Parkway, we came across a guy that we saw earlier, towing his bike trailer packed with equipment and wearing an American flag cycling jersey. We realized he had just started his cross-country journey and was now about 3 miles into the ride. I rolled down my window as we drove by, Paul beeped, and I gave him a thumbs-up. He pumped his fist in response. That was it…the tears started pouring down. The build up, the excitement, the anticipation, and finally the dawning that this was really going to happen spilled out. On seeing my reaction, Paul shook his head, smiled a little and offered, “Put tissues on the list of things we need to pick up.”