Suit to Saddle

At some point between Del Rio and Navasota, it hit me that I could complete the coast-to-coast ride. I realized I was a strong rider. Somewhere during those 325 miles, my focus had changed; I was no longer satisfied just to have acted on my dream. I was consumed with a desire to finish every inch of the ride on the saddle. Paradoxically, I began to worry that a mechanical issue would derail me. “What ifs” entered my mind often. What would I do if I was injured? What would I do if my saddle sores became infected?

From the time I left San Diego through the first three weeks on the road, I rarely thought about St. Augustine. A couple of challenging days early on helped sharpen my thinking to stay focused on what was ahead that day. I thought back to riding through the California desert, the Arizona heat, the New Mexico mountains, and Texas’s never-ending roads. I was pleased to have made it this far, but not satisfied. I had a mission to complete. I never lost sight of the big picture. Every so often, my mind flashed to a video I’d watched before leaving of someone finishing the final leg of the Southern Tier, entering St. Augustine to no fanfare, no bells, no whistles, nothing. Just the satisfaction of knowing they completed an epic journey. In the beginning, I did not know what to expect. That was no longer the situation. I had experienced mountains, heat, desert, humidity, wind, rain, and cold. I tackled each day with vigor. I could not imagine anything forcing me onto the sidelines.