Biking to the Top of the Bridge

I forgot my helmet tonight. There are worse things, riskier things, but never-the-less, I am sorry. I am aware that I am not leading a good example, as I pedal across the Casco Bay Bridge in the half-dark, coming home from Lighthouse Bikes, but I feel like I am getting away with something and it feels delicious. The colors of the sky are deepening from violet to purple and the air is holding the warmth from a sultry, summer day. It is tempered though, by a gentle breeze that wafts up from the Fore River far below me. It lightens the night’s humidity and makes me feel like I am floating. My hair tickles the bare shoulders of my tank-top clad back, as it is blown about in mini zephyrs-a helmetless delight that I know we can all remember.

Marielle Segarra from Marketplace on NPR just left. She spent the last two days with me working on a profile piece for a broadcast named “The Calling.” It is about people have heeded a calling to switch careers and what that process was like for them. She has aired one in the series about a man working in retail that became a marble maker, another about a nude model who decided it was time to accept his body rather than hide it away and another about a financier, turned professional pianist. All of these people were actively engaged in different professions before something happened that activated them to make a major change. I feel like the thing that I have in common with them is that we were all ignited by people in our lives who encouraged, cheered, supported and understood us, and perhaps, we were willing to take a risk.

It is the feeling of all this support that has left me feeling heady and forgetful. As I ride across the bridge, I am almost afraid to feel such happiness. Almost scared to believe that all the events of the past few years have led me here to this bridge, to this night. All those mountain passes my teenage son and I climbed as we rode across the United States, all the fear that I was awash in again and again-the wild dogs, the cold, the storms-all the emotional intensity I experienced with my son both before, during and after our adventure, and all my own teenage years of feeling like I didn’t fit in. In fact all the wanderings and wonderings of my life, led here.

And it wouldn’t have. Not a chance. Not without friends and family saying, “Do it. You will find your way. You are capable.”

And not without the kindness of all the strangers out there giving us water, rides and places to sleep, and kind words, as we cycled past. And not without people telling me, “You have a book here, something worth saying.” It is because of them that I wrote, “Changing Gears”, and I have not shut up since. (Perhaps they wish I would!)

I realize that I am a bit overly involved with myself right now, “Feeling my oats.” as my father used to say when I was feeling proud and walking with a swagger, but all I really want is for us ALL to feel our oats and to eat up this life. We have all overcome all sorts of challenges and should feel good and encouraged by our resilience.

So, where do these feelings leave me? Of course I want to do it again and again and again. Why wouldn’t I? If challenge and support lead here-to the top of the bridge feeling like I might float away on the most beautiful night ever-why would I ever stop? But, I also want to make sure that I am the kind stranger for other people too, because you never know where a ride or a water or kind words may lead them. The possibilities are incredible.

“The Calling” will be aired in the first two weeks of August. You know far too well that I will let you know the exact date and time as soon as I have it. I am a blabber mouth after all.

• I am excited to bike across South America this winter and would love to hear from anyone who has experience doing such a trip. Chili to Uruguay.