By: Durell Hood (Durell + his wife moved to South Carolina from Peachtree City, Georgia in 2015. They have lived in the NOMA area of Greenville since 2018.)
This is a contributor-submitted Voices piece. Want to join the conversation? We invite you to write for us. Learn how to share your voice here.
“A journey is best measured by friends rather than miles.” -Tim Cahill
I would like to begin by saying I’ve had a love for bicycles for many years. I love their beauty, simplicity, and the feeling of freedom they inspire. Although I have this great affection for bicycles, I do not really consider myself an avid cyclist. I am a traveler who has discovered that the best way for me to meet new friends, see new places, and to challenge myself is on two wheels.
For me, bike touring began about 15 years ago with my good friend and best riding buddy Charles Ginn. We took many shorter trips (ranging between 500 + 1,000 miles) in Vermont, New York, New Hampshire, Wyoming, and Florida. Although each of them was rewarding, I yearned to do an epic trip: a solo travel from Washington to Maine via Canada. In 2014, at the age of 55, this journey finally became a reality.
I left Anacortes on July 12 with plans of finishing in Bar Harbor sometime in October. Aside from the general direction I was headed, that was about as defined as the planning would get. Personally, having a strict timeline or route that is not flexible, takes away some of the adventure and enjoyment.
Most of my nights were spent camping. On days where the heat, rain, wind, or cold pushed me to my limit, I opted for a hotel splurge which amounted to about four nights out of the 80 day trip.
A favorite stop
One of my favorite stops during my trip came from a recommendation from a westbound bike traveler who suggested I visit the Assumption Abbey in North Dakota. I arrived after the visitor’s center was closed, but decided to look around and knock on a few doors. To my joy, a lady, who was cooking dinner for the monks, invited me inside. I was introduced to Father Odo, who greeted me and let me sleep in the Abbey’s basement. He also invited me to their evening prayers which I eagerly accepted. Not only did I get to go, but I was allowed to sit and sing with them in their beautiful cathedral. Afterwards, we were served a simple meal that evening and breakfast the next morning. Meals are eaten in silence, with no talking until everyone has finished. Truly amazing.
Some scary moments (involving nature + man)
Nature: 75 mph winds while camping in Washington. I had never camped in a storm that strong. My tent pegs were ripped out, and I held on to the ground through my tent zippers. My climb over Logan Pass in Glacier National Park was also quite the challenge due to the long climb, elevation, and sheer drops. I was grateful for the motivating shouts, horn honks, and thumbs up from the cheering motorists, pushing me forward to the top.
Man: On a foggy morning in Minnesota, I noticed a van following me. I slowed down to see what was going to happen. He pulled up alongside my bike, and said he wanted to talk to me about my gear and my trip. We never stopped rolling. I just held on to his mirror for the next mile or so while we talked – he drove and I peddled.
The kindness of strangers
The camping was great and the hotel stays were wonderful, but the best memories were when I was invited to spend the night in a total stranger’s home. The kindness and willingness of strangers to open their home to me and leave the next morning as friends was without a doubt the best part of this ride.
I have met and been inspired by many others during my travels who have shown me the true meaning of strength and perseverance during tough times. In Florida, a young man I met pulled his high school friend with MS from California in a custom trailer he had made for him. And Matthew, a disabled veteran, who became a good friend of mine, has ridden all four corners of the continental US to help bring attention to veterans suffering from PTSD and the suicide rate associated with this.
I hope reading this will inspire others to get out and see what doors will open when we slow down, become flexible, and allow ourselves to be approachable. There is so much to talk about with this ride that can’t be fully conveyed here. You can visit my blog or email me. I love meeting and talking to other adventurers.
