A postcard to Bike

Hey BIKE,

I’m on my long journey back to Mazunte. How have you been?

Please excuse me if this is all nonsense, but then again, that’s all I am now. I am nonsense. Its been a vacation. A long vacation full of nothing. It has been a nothing vacation of waiting. You may have crumpled this up and thrown it out already. Ever since I had disappeared into the distance I have regretted it all, knowing that I never might see you again. So I’ll say right now what I should have said then, and hope that it might make due.

It has been a lonesome journey. I had an “OK” time in Costa Rica. I saw a couple touring cyclistas on the Pan American. It was a stab in my heart. My vacation felt incomplete. I missed the road we use to share, together. During this “vacation”, I realized on planes and buses, it just isn’t the same- traveling the world. I missed how we made stops wherever and whenever we wanted to. We shared the world together, crossing terrains from desert to beaches, and over mountains. Dropbars in hand. I missed sleeping under the stars when I was curled up in awkward fetal position on a stinky bus chair. The buses are terribly uncomfortable. I thought our plane was going down with G force. I had flashbacks of us touring America and Mexico. We traveled thousands, thousands of miles. We experienced ultimate freedom. With you I felt like a child of wonder.

In Costa Rica, I could only get around by the transportation of others. It was lame that I couldn’t explore the country. Only you could have given me that freedom. We could have hit the road, go anywhere we wanted to. No waiting at bus stops, no security checks, no payments at boarders, tickets, or toll roads. Buses, cars, and planes… As Rob would call the tour inconveniences, it’s all “bloody bullshit”.

Remember when we hit that speed bump because I didn’t see it coming and your tires slipped on the wet pavement. We both were crying from that fall. Yet, together, we continued to ride 40 more kilometers that day- through the rain. Together, we never gave up.

We had the best times. We cruised around the plazas, dodging traffic, trying on stupid sombrero hats and laughing, asking passers-by to take pictures of us. We smiled on our last day arriving to Detroit, telling everyone we just rode from California. We smiled after they said we were crazy.

We smiled a lot that day.

Who knows why I remember each of these details? This is how you make me feel – wide shoulders and tailwinds, downhills and dog chases and quiet days of 50 kilometer nature rides. Sunlight. Mountains. You.

I’m sorry that I left you. I’m on my way back to you, and we will continue on the tour. We have a lot to look forward to.

– Lost girl without her bike

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3 thoughts on “A postcard to Bike

  1. sitting here with tears running down my face thinking how wonderful you write! I love you so and am so glad to be your friend<3 but can't help feeling bad for your Bike! some daze I put on your little dress or shirt and send love and safety to you all the day… now 'll remember to include your Bike<3 You are such a blessing<3 if I ever grow up I want to brave and bright as you, Thank YOU

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