Thunder rumbles lowly outside as rain patters against the window. I would have never imagined that it would be here at Tulane University in New Orleans, LA where I would conclude my record of Team Seattle 2012's journey. It has been over a year since our departure from Baltimore. This year's teams, including a new route and a cross country running team, have already embarked on their journeys. In our own small ways, my former team members and I have helped prepare the 2013 teams for their adventures.
It bothered me that as all this time passed, as we became 4K for Cancer Alumni, my blog remained unfinished. I am often reminded of the past summer; the right song, the mention of a location, and the old itch to get on the bike and leave all spark nostalgia. I’m surprised at how long I've let the blog remain open-ended.
I have decided that it is time to formally conclude my blog. Over this past year I have had ample time to digest and reflect on the trip in it's entirety. Thus, while my ability to recall exact details of the final days have faded, my ability to understand and appreciate the adventure has grown exponentially.
The End of the Line :Summarizing our last days on the road
My last post was over nearly a year ago on August 24, 2012, detailing our arrival to Anacortes in western Washington on Day 65 of 70 as we descended from the Northern Cascades. On Day 66 we headed off to Guemes Island after hanging out in the city of Anacortes for some time. The afternoon spent on Anacortes was enjoyable, filled with cafes and bike shops that had a calm vibe perfectly matching the city’s location west of Padilla bay. We commuted to Guemes island via the ferry after loading all of our bikes onto the van, since we weren't allowed to commute across on bike.
The ferry was particularly smaller than my prior ferry experiences, but perfectly sized to meet the needs of the population of Guemes (605 according to the 2000 census). The island was beautiful, and for a little while I was able to imagine that I was far removed from the end of my journey and stranded on a peaceful island far removed from society. Keep in mind, this is an island where people travel by horse regularly.
The community church gave us a wonderful orientation about the island and its geography. While they were preparing dinner I went exploring around the island by myself, biking along the shore and stopping to climb to the highest point on Guemes. The dinner was enjoyable and the company was fantastic. We shared our stories and our pictures. With the night winding down, we sprawled out and fell asleep on the floor.
The community church gave us a wonderful orientation about the island and its geography. While they were preparing dinner I went exploring around the island by myself, biking along the shore and stopping to climb to the highest point on Guemes. The dinner was enjoyable and the company was fantastic. We shared our stories and our pictures. With the night winding down, we sprawled out and fell asleep on the floor.
Day 67: Homely Oak Harbor
After a lovely breakfast on Guemes Island we left the island via the ferry, heading back to Anacortes. Once on land at Anacortes we had until dinner time to travel to our host at Oak Harbor, WA (relatives of Lindsay). It was only about 20 miles to Oak Harbor from Anacortes, so the team split up and people made their way south at their own pace. Some people stayed to explore Anacortes more, others headed out to see what they would discover on the road. The ride was as scenic as most days in western Washington.
We all gathered at our host for a delicious home cooked dinner. We were soon split up into groups to stay in separate neighborhood houses for the night. I had a very warm and welcoming evening with the Bankowski family, and was even able to catch up on some of the Olympics.
We all gathered at our host for a delicious home cooked dinner. We were soon split up into groups to stay in separate neighborhood houses for the night. I had a very warm and welcoming evening with the Bankowski family, and was even able to catch up on some of the Olympics.
Day 68: Positively Pepper Neff
After breakfast with the Bankowski family my group returned to the host to reconvene the team and perform our morning dedication circle and cheer. We were enjoying our time at Oak Harbor so much that we failed to realize how late it had gotten. We raced the ten miles to the Port Townsend Ferry to catch the ferry on time. Three of the team's group (mine included) had made it to the ferry on time. The other's, however, had to wait for a later ferry. The rest of the 40 miles to just outside of Kingston, WA went smoothly, though even along the coast western Washington's hills were surprisingly steep. Before long we arrived at Alex's Grandparent's home.
I had an amazing evening with Alex's family. They were welcoming and fun. Her Grandparent's home was beautiful and had views of Seattle from the yard. It was at this point that the realization that our trip was coming to an end struck each and every one of us. We could see Seattle. It seemed so close! Fortunately, we caught a rare glimpse of Mt. Rainier.
That night we gathered around for our last Team Pow-Wow. We reflected on our journey, talking about our favorite moments. We shared our future hopes and dreams and enjoyed one of our last nights together.
I had an amazing evening with Alex's family. They were welcoming and fun. Her Grandparent's home was beautiful and had views of Seattle from the yard. It was at this point that the realization that our trip was coming to an end struck each and every one of us. We could see Seattle. It seemed so close! Fortunately, we caught a rare glimpse of Mt. Rainier.
That night we gathered around for our last Team Pow-Wow. We reflected on our journey, talking about our favorite moments. We shared our future hopes and dreams and enjoyed one of our last nights together.
I (reluctantly) left the Pepper Neff residence in Kingston, traveling to Bainbridge Island. The ride was only 20 miles, though hilly like the day before. When were instructed to stop as we neared the main part of town and waited. Surprisingly, the community of Bainbridge had arranged for a police escort to take the team through town to a local park. We rode into the park as if we were our own parade, with people lining the streets to clap and cheer us on. We were shortly presented with a proclamation from the Mayor of Bainbridge, naming August 3rd as "4K for Cancer Day."
Soon after the celebration we rode down towards the water of the Puget Sound to dip our tires in the Pacific, as we had dipped them in the Atlantic back at the Baltimore Inner Harbor. If someone didn't know any better, they might have thought that Bainbridge was the end of our journey.
After the tire dip (though it was more like a slip in the mud) we rode to Cali's house, since she lived on Bainbridge Island and it was her family that was hosting the team for the night. This night was special, however. Not only was it our last night together as a team, our families who traveled to greet us at the finish line met us for a grand dinner celebration. I had not seen my brother or father since I left in May. It felt great to see them again. Reuniting with them only increased my desire to go back home and spend time with the people I love and missed the most.
After our families took the ferry back to Seattle, the team gathered around to appreciate our last night together.
Soon after the celebration we rode down towards the water of the Puget Sound to dip our tires in the Pacific, as we had dipped them in the Atlantic back at the Baltimore Inner Harbor. If someone didn't know any better, they might have thought that Bainbridge was the end of our journey.
After the tire dip (though it was more like a slip in the mud) we rode to Cali's house, since she lived on Bainbridge Island and it was her family that was hosting the team for the night. This night was special, however. Not only was it our last night together as a team, our families who traveled to greet us at the finish line met us for a grand dinner celebration. I had not seen my brother or father since I left in May. It felt great to see them again. Reuniting with them only increased my desire to go back home and spend time with the people I love and missed the most.
After our families took the ferry back to Seattle, the team gathered around to appreciate our last night together.
Day 70: Sincerely, Team Seattle
After rising for our final day, we ate breakfast with mixed emotions. I yearned to go home and return to those I had left behind on this journey. I wanted to share my experiences and learn of others' adventures this summer. But, to do all this meant leaving the team behind, it meant ending the summer's adventure, returning to responsibilities beyond getting from point A to point B alive and well.
It was on Cali's backyard porch that we shared our last dedication circle. The cheer that morning was the best one we ever did, complete with all of our phrases and cues. It was bitter-sweet.
We geared up for our last ride-- our final twenty miles.
We rode to the ferry and loaded up our bikes, heading to the dock to watch the Seattle skyline approach ever so slowly. It was the longest ferry ride of my life, watching the buildings grow taller and taller, inch by inch as we nudged closer and closer to the dock.
When we made land, we rode together as a team throughout the city, eventually making our way north to the Seattle Children's Hospital, where we rode up to the front entrance. There to greet us stood our friends and families, signs waving and voices cheering us on. We huddled together at the finish line, one team grown together over 70 days across 4,000 miles, and hollered our last cheer, full of energy and excitement.
It was on Cali's backyard porch that we shared our last dedication circle. The cheer that morning was the best one we ever did, complete with all of our phrases and cues. It was bitter-sweet.
We geared up for our last ride-- our final twenty miles.
We rode to the ferry and loaded up our bikes, heading to the dock to watch the Seattle skyline approach ever so slowly. It was the longest ferry ride of my life, watching the buildings grow taller and taller, inch by inch as we nudged closer and closer to the dock.
When we made land, we rode together as a team throughout the city, eventually making our way north to the Seattle Children's Hospital, where we rode up to the front entrance. There to greet us stood our friends and families, signs waving and voices cheering us on. We huddled together at the finish line, one team grown together over 70 days across 4,000 miles, and hollered our last cheer, full of energy and excitement.
After taking pictures we were ushered inside. We were given a tour of the facilities. Soon after we entered into a cafeteria where a presentation was given and photos taken throughout our journey were played in a slideshow. Pictures collected over the trip flashed across the projection screen; 70 days were summed up in a few minutes. Something didn't feel right--this didn't feel like the finish line.
Before long it was time to go, except this time I would leave with my father and brother, not with the team. As I loaded my bike onto the van for the last time (so it could hitch a ride back east), I gave an open farewell to my teammates, figuring that I would see them later that evening. I grabbed my bags and headed with my father and brother to their hotel. Whatever the reason, I never met back up with my teammates in Seattle (many of them having disbanded already as well).
Coming Full Circle
The rest of the weekend was spent exploring Seattle with my brother and father. It was a fantastic, vibrant city, the perfect place for the end of a journey. But as I wandered the streets, as I had done so many other places across the States that summer, I felt something missing. Closure. I had gone from waking up with 26 people ready to ride miles upon miles to waking up in a hotel room, quietly getting ready to start my day.
It wasn't until dinner with my father and brother at the Skycity Restaurant atop of the Space Needle that I felt the journey come to a close. As the restaurant spun slowly, giving us a 360 degree view of the city and the land surrounding it, the sun began to set. Under that setting sun I could peer far north, towards the zeniths of the Cascades that we climbed over; west, past Bainbridge and the islands, the direction that had marked my progress all summer; south, taking in majestic Mt. Rainier and wondering about the other teams concluding their southern routes; east, over the southern Cascades that divide Washington, back through Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, South Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, Ohio, New York, Pennsylvania and Maryland, back 4,000 miles to where it all began--to home. As the sun set in the west my gaze turned back east. While sitting there, surrounded by reminders of all that I had accomplished, everything came full circle.
