A Kite—Day 31 of Bicycling through Morocco, Spain and England

There are enormous bulls, snorting fire, prancing in the streets. Harpys, taller than semi-trucks, march behind them. Dragons with woman’s breasts, spin and dance. All of them have fire streaming from their noses and horns, and are circled by human attendants helping them, as they blindly make their way through the crowds.
It is the last night of carnival and the street is alive with madness. Giant sparklers fill the dark with light, sending sparks flying and threatening to set the world on fire. They pop, whir and and burst making people shriek and duck for cover.
There is drumming too. Soulful, melodic drumming, from over one hundred drummers. It seems to awaken something in the people and everyone dances in a jolting, stomping manner, the old and the young together. Children climb to their parents shoulders and their parents spin. The celebration goes late into the night, and tonight, I stay awake.

I did it. Unabashedly, I did it. I rode 1,400 miles through Morocco, a little smidge of England, and Spain. I am proud. Is that wrong? It was hard and long and took determination and grit, and it allowed me to learn an incredible amount about this world and my place in it. 

I loved every part of it, even the parts that I hated. The steep mountains, the soul crushing wind, getting lost and feeling lonely. I missed my family terribly, and wondered if I would have my place back when I returned. I threatened never to do this again, but I lied. I can’t not.

This world, that I don’t understand, I love. I love the colors and the people, the variety and the intensity, and the struggle and the triumph. It is corny, I know, but it is the truth. Something in me wants to inhale it all, in the biggest breath I can manage, because I don’t want to miss a thing.

Tonight, I sit in Barcelona, having a private celebration. I am incredibly thankful that those trucks didn’t hit me, that I made it through the wind, and that I was allowed to experience this. I don’t know what to do with all of it, except to knit it into my being. There is no career in it, no lofty goal, no world betterment. It is just a feeling of fullness that feels like it matters.

I will be here for two days and then I will return home, to the people I love most in the world. I couldn’t have one without the other. My love for them allows me to feel like a kite, with a string that connects me to my anchor. A kite can’t fly without someone holding on.