The ride is over. My feeling of wanting to continue is also over. I’m ready to go home. After yesterday’s emotional end to the ride and great dinner with my new friends, I was too worn out to write. I climbed into bed expecting to fall right to sleep. My brain had other ideas…it was running full tilt recalling so many things about the past two months.
The day was perfect for ending the ride. The threatened afternoon showers never arrived. It was a short day mileagewise but I asked to start with the early group and am glad.
Roel, Ann and I made up the final day’s group for the most part. Others were with us off and on during the day. Because we’d left early, there was time to stop for coffee/tea. But not too much as we needed to be at Rye Jr. High by a specific time. We did arrive in plenty of time. There was lots of hugging and good-bying at this point because we weren’t sure what would happen at the beach.
Our police escort showed up and we rode the last few miles in style, as a group. We had the blue carpet treatment at the beach. (A blue carpet led us onto the sand). Some took off their shoes, carried the bike and held it over their heads in triumph as photos were taken.
Family and friends were there to cheer for us all. Even the locals who were just visiting the beach were cheering for us and offering congratulations. It was quite a feeling of accomplishment.
Staff had collected water from the Pacific and our tandem team of Chris and James were chosen to pour it into the Atlantic.
At this point, we had choices. Pack bike in trailer and take van to motel, ride into Maine (just to say you’d done it), or ride to the motel. I chose to ride to the motel. As I was alone, it gave me time to reflect on what had just happened. Lots of feelings: happy, sad, elated, wonder, accomplishment…
Phil, one of the riders who lives near here, arranged for a group dinner at Warren’s Lobster in Maine. Although not everyone was there, it allowed us another chance to get together before the final farewells.
I sat at the table with Hao and his parents. His father came here from Shanghai and his mother from Beijing both around 30 years ago. I would have liked to talk to them more since I visited China a few years back and have questions about life under Mao.
This morning there were still several of our group having another wonderful motel breakfast which gave us more time together and more goodbys.
Finally those of us going to the airport loaded up into the van for the drive to Logan Airport in Boston. Once we got to the airport, more hugs. The others were taking airlines in another terminal so I’m by myself in terminal C waiting for my evening flight. Can’t even check in my luggage until noon (its 9:30) so I’m very sedentary for now. What a strange feeling.