Doubt

It’s what fills my mind when I think about this trip. In fact, the whole feeling of the trip is as if it’s someone speaking through my body, someone saying words that I haven’t authorized. I heard myself responding to friends and co-workers inquiries as if from afar, “Yeah, the adventure of a lifetime, fer sure.” What the hell had I gotten myself into?

The idea of a trip started as a form of escapism, really, a little internet diversion daydreaming about a bike trip. I started reading about riding through Europe and envisioned myself on a point to point ride, traveling light with only a backpack and staying in a different town each night. Maybe I’d even plan to spend a few nights at a particular point of interest, pamper myself a little and enjoy the location to give my legs a hard earned rest once in a while. I started looking at hotels in different areas of Spain, and was quickly reminded that in Europe the cost of a hotel room is per person based on double (or more!) occupancy. The more research I did, the less it seemed I could afford to simply ride my bike across an EU country without spending a lot of money. At the same time, I was also coming across information about people who carried *all* their stuff on their bikes so that they were self sufficient on the road and not dependent upon hotels and restaurants. That seemed crazy to me! How was it possible to carry all that stuff on a bike, I marveled? It would totally affect the handling – I couldn’t imagine descending down Pyrrean switchbacks with any extra junk to throw off my already skittish descents. Just as I started to warm to the idea of adding a rack and panniers to my bike, I found out that you can’t just add a rack to any carbon bike, there are geometric considerations such as the length of the chain stays, and whether carbon can withstand the weight, and of course, brazeons and rack mount points were needed (whatever those were!).

As a casual road cyclist (with a Strava account, of course!), I had originally envisioned my trip as one where I would ride 75 miles a day at a fast pace for a good challenge (hopefully having bagged 3-4k feet of climbing – maybe more!). Upon completion of a satisfying ride, I’d hop off the bike for a shower and change of clothes and then go off into town in pursuit of a fab meal featuring local culinary and vinicultural delights. But the more research I did, the more it seemed I was going to end up looking like a bike hobo rather than a road cyclist if I wanted to avoid hotel costs. ‘Touring’ (I had made the mental shift and starting thinking in this term) was differentiated from road riding by some pretty non-negotiable points, such as a bike that can fit and carry the stuff you need to bring, and gearing to ensure you can turn the pedals to get yourself and all your essential crap from point A to point B – up and over those challenging double digit Pyrrean pitches. A trip like this involved gear.

So now I’ve spent a lot of time researching gear. I’ve bought a touring bike, which I purchased on sale and with all my REI coop dollars), a tent ( REI sale) and assorted other things (some of which have not yet arrived, such as my Ortlieb panniers). I love camping, so this part of the research has been pleasant, but I realize that I am avoiding other realities by losing myself in counting grams here. For instance, route planning and booking travel. Both of these represent reality – booking the trip means there is no turning back, which honestly, scares the shit out of me. And route planning emphasizes the difficulty that I will likely have when I am on the road trying to get someplace (I know how hard it can be to find my way in a foreign country when there are no signs, no corners and no people). But…that is what this trip is about. Being outside my comfort zone, relying on myself and doing things that scare me. The question I know I’ll ask a hundred times though, is why did I think that was necessary?