Cycling Ellen

49 miles today
3068.3 final total

My husband and Debbie are on their way to UPS to ship back our boxes filled with our precious cargo, the bikes that got us all the way from San Diego to St. Augustine.  I’m grabbing a free moment to let all of you know that we all made it here and without any flats to the beach today.  The ride to the fire station outside of town was typical of so many of our rides – farmland, fields, houses and side roads.  We passed a tractor harvesting potatoes (so cool the way the potatoes fall into the gathering truck while the dirt falls out the other side back into the field), more cows, sheep and horses and a couple of lakes.  Phyllis did her last sag duty at mile 20.  So many women had left really early to make sure they made it to the station in time for our 10:30 gathering, that I was one of the last there.  The mood was celebratory with an edge of fear that something might happen to prevent us from doing our last triumphant ride.  I saw a few people checking their tires, including me, to make sure there weren’t any problems in store.  After my flat yesterday, I gave it some extra air just to make sure I’d get in ok.  No one wanted to ride to the beach in the sag car at the back with Michelle.

At the fire station, we gathered for pictures and eventually arranged ourselves in roughly age order with Barbara, in her recumbent and Jeannie, in her trike, leading the pack.  Two by two we lined up as the police cars made their motorcade.  I had serious goose bumps looking ahead to the role models of successful aging in front of me and the exuberant youngsters behind.  We headed out for the last five miles of our journey with sirens going and whoops and hollers from the cyclists.   People on the side of the road waved back with enthusiasm, probably confused as to what this line of women on bicycles was all about.  No matter.  It was a parade and everyone loves a parade.

As we pulled into the state park, we spied the welcoming committee of friends and family gathered there.  Confusion reigned as we found our loved ones and tried to make sense of our accomplishments.  We were really there!  We carried our bikes down to the ocean, dipped the front tires into the Atlantic and gave celebratory hugs and shouts.  After the last group picture with our bikes, a few of us left them on the sand and headed out into the ocean.  The Atlantic never felt so warm.  A V of pelicans cruised overhead and I had to stop and catch my breath to appreciate the moment I was living.  It still hasn’t sunk in that all those riding days added up to this.  We have ridden from Ocean number 1 to Ocean number 2 on our bicycles, over mountains, across deserts, past dogs, along swamps and along the Gulf Coast.

Introductions were made all around.  Our friends probably felt as we did back in San Diego trying to keep all the names and faces straight and probably just as unsuccessfully as we did then.  Now, though, those familiar faces carry stories that have become part of us and our history making together.  Tonight, we’ll share our final moments together at a banquet just for us (as significant others gather in the motel parking lot with our tables and white plastic chairs for a celebration of their own).  Judy got me teary at breakfast this morning which reminds me to bring the box of special lotion tissues I bought when I was sick back in Texas tonight.  I have a feeling we’re going to need them.

I’ll write one more time after I get home late tomorrow night.  In the meantime, raise your glass and enjoy a sip of our celebration.  We’re all here safe and sound and feeling so grateful.