A Bikeride

I’m gonna go on a bike ride! I’m quitting my job and skipping town. Here is why:

When I was a kid I got a red BMX that my dad hid in the attic. He handed it down to my mom through the trap door in the garage ceiling on my birthday. That was one sweet bike.

One day me and my friend Anne rode our bikes to the end of Allen Drive. And by “end” I don’t mean a cul-de-sac or something. I mean it was a normal road that ended in a tangle of weeds. No curb, no sign, nothing. Road, weeds. But we did not stop. We pushed through the weeds, across the vacant lot and into the woods. We must have gone a mile into the wilderness. I told my first grade friends that story for weeks. It was the sweetest trip ever.


You know, when you get a chance to do something cool with a friend, you just don’t pass that up. Not if you’re smart. That’s what I think. That’s what my friend Rob thinks too. We’ve ended up doing some pretty cool stuff together. We marched at halftime in November with long johns under our polyester band uniforms. We camped in a noisy wood in the city of Hamilton, on our way to Niagara Falls. We accidentally risked our lives on Bull’s Sluice rapid on my second trip in a kayak. We risked them again, on purpose, climbing a volcano, trying our best to look heroic and not frightened. We found dinner in a menecing midnight ocean with a tipsy dugout canoe for refuge.


Now we’re going to ride bikes. Allen Drive doesn’t seem so long anymore, so we’re going to the end of America. I am told there are penguins! It’s going to be the sweetest trip ever.

These days, Rob goes by “hIrSch.” One of the great things about having a long time friend is that you get to call them by the name they went by in high school, whether they like it or not. This is even better in my case, since I’ve pretty much always gone by Marc. He can’t get me back!

He’ll find some other way though.

This thing is certain: at some point in the 7000 miles between Costa Rica and the penguins, we are going to annoy the crap out of each other. We're going to want to kick each other's spokes, or throw lightning balls. It will be an epic battle.


Another thing is certain: whatever it is, we’ll get over it.

And finally: a friend like that is just about the most valuable thing there is.

You know, it’s funny the things that kids think. When my dad went up into the attic for that bike, I heard a noise. Something scraped or squeaked, and I thought it was a voice. I thought my dad was going to bring down the thing I wanted more than anything in the world. I thought he was going to bring me a friend.

I was a little disappointed getting a bike instead. But my dad knew what he was doing. Friends are not something you get. They’re not even something you make, or find. They’re something you become.


There are other reasons I am going on this bike ride. I’m still pretty much a kid, but occasionally I’ve been feeling grown too. There are ambitions to fulfill, disappointments to leave behind, and a simple lust for adventure. There are unknowns to discover, people to meet, a language to learn, and ties to be made. There is Glory to behold. More on all of that later.


For now, the main thing is that I’m going on an adventure and I’m just plain excited. Rob started in Vancouver, and I'm joining him from Costa Rica to Tierra del Fuego at the southern tip of the Americas. That's 7000 miles for my leg, give or take a grand, and 4 or 5 months if all goes well. If you want to hear about it, come again. I plan to post pictures, stories, and whatever thoughts I feel bold enough to share. Please share back!