Circling the U.S. Chapter 81: Our End Date That Wasn't the End Date

Today was the day we should have finished our bicycle ride circumnavigating the continental United States. We were on track to do it, too, arriving in New Hampshire the way we left, by bicycle.

For months, then weeks, then days up until our departure date, even though we talked about it, and planned for it, we still didn’t believe it would happen. Bicycle for an entire year? No way. Something will go wrong. Rob has lung disease and heart disease. In January, 2019, his knee starting hurting and the orthopedist said he needed a knee replacement, but go ahead on your trip, bicycling is the best thing for it. 

If some health problem didn’t do us in, something else would We didn’t know what; we just both had a sense of disbelief that we were actually going to make our dream happen.

Then, on June 7, 2019, we got on our bikes and one day followed another.  When we were in New York, on the Erie Canal, the west coast seemed so far away, San Diego even farther.  Rob said, “I still can’t believe we’re doing this.” I felt the same way. After several months, Rob said, “I still can’t believe we’re doing this.” But by then we were on the west coast, thousands of miles behind us. We were doing it.

There were times when I thought about quitting but Rob never did. And there was always the next unknown adventure to look forward to. 

Two days after leaving San Diego in early December, Rob had an episode of atrial fibrillation. He checked into a hospital, his heart rate returned to normal, a cardiologist prescribed some medication to keep his heart rate in check, and the next day he was back on his bike After Austin, Rob’s knee started hurting when he was riding. He kept going. 

Of all the things that could have forced us off our bikes, we thought it would be something that would happen to us – an injury, an accident, a stolen bicycle, some tragedy. But a pandemic? In the middle of March we arrived in Florida as the Covid-19 crisis hit full force. We rented a mini-van and drove home to New Hampshire.

But I’m a planner. I have to have hope. As we drove home, through Georgia, South Carolina, North Caroline, Virgina, Maryland, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, Connecticut, and Massachusetts, I thought, if this is resolved by May 1, we’ll take a train to somewhere in New Jersey and we’ll finish our trip, then do the missing piece in a couple years. I didn’t want to believe the news that we were heading for a new normal, that this wouldn’t be over in a couple weeks, or a couple months.

But here we are. After over two months we’ve settled back into our house, unpacked everything we stored away, cleaned up our yard, tried to find some routine with an uncertain future. We’ve revisited our favorite local bike rides along the coasts of Maine and New Hampshire and around nearby lakes. Instead of celebrating our anniversary on Nantucket which we'd hoped to do, we bicycled to Ogunquit, walked on the beach (the Maine beaches were open, not New Hampshire, and going into Maine we were supposed to self-quarantine for 14 days, so we probably broke the law), and cooked lobsters for dinner. Rob made chocolate chip cookies for the first time.

Today we drove north into the White Mountains and hiked along the Pemigewasset River to Franconia Falls for a picnic lunch. Rob ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I had cheese and crackers and dried fruit and peanuts and chocolate, all reminiscent of our lunches on the road. It was a beautiful drive and a peaceful hike; we passed few people, a young couple out backpacking, a family. three older women wearing masks. The trail is an old logging railroad bed; the ties are still there. It was wide enough to pass people safely..

We are making do, grateful to have our health and, for now, financial stability.

On Easter we rode into Maine. The beaches were closed; being on a bicycle we had unobstructed views.

Several times we rode down the New Hampshire coastline. We stopped for lunch on one of these benches overlooking Wallis Sands State Park. The beaches were clearly closed and all parking was blocked off. But there wasn't a sign in front of these benches saying no trespassing.

  

On one of our rides we stopped at Prescott Park in Portsmouth. The bridge connects Maine and New Hampshire, over the Piscataqua River. At night it's lit with colored lights.

During the summer we enjoy musicals and concerts here, with the only cost a recommended donation. In 2017 they performed the new Mary Poppins musical. In was so good I saw it three times.  All performances are cancelled this year.

We've done a few jigsaw puzzles. In the past I'd always done them alone, The pandemic has given us something new that we share. I only tackle ones that are 500 pieces; this one is not as hard as it looks. I gave Rob another one for our anniversary, one of a lighthouse. It's turning out to be a challenge.