A Tardy Reward for a Long Ago Feat of Strength, Bravery and Foolhardiness
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Yes it’s true, I did that – all by my lonesome, on a whim, with a half-baked plan that unfolded mile by mile along with the bike-unfriendly map I carried. Not to mention a mountain of equipment – such as a tent and sleeping bag, a small stove, tools, extra inner tubes, even an extra tire -- all stuffed into and strapped onto a pair of homemade panniers I stitched together myself.
Not like these folks, sailing along on their twelve-pound bicycles with only the skimpy clothes on their bodies, and a sag-wagon full of all-you-can-eat-and-drink goodies and supplies and tools and a team of mechanics following along behind. Hello? How hard is that?
In case you’re sitting there thinking “What do you want, a medal?” the answer is yes, I do. And now I have one. See? Here it is.
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If I ever get the hare-brained idea in my head to try such an expedition again, I’m definitely doing it their way. Why kill yourself? Or get killed -- camping by the side of the road like a damn fool. As IF you’re in the mood to mess with camping equipment after ten hours on a bike. Please.
Give me a high-falutin hotel with room service, a hot-tub, and a heavenly bed.
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