When I think about riding the Pony Express Trail, the two feelings that come up are fear and discomfort. And fear of discomfort. It’s worst in the morning when I get up, and at night right before I go to bed. I try to imagine setting up camp, cooking meals, sleeping on the ground, doing the myriad tasks camping requires after riding the bike in the dirt and gravel all day. I try to imagine the time between dinner and going to bed, getting up in the cold morning, riding all day in the wind.
None of it sounds pleasant. Nothing I’d want to do.
And I have to wonder, will see anything, experience anything, that will make the discomfort worthwhile? How can I know ahead of time? The fat is, I can’t.In a way, it’s a leap of faith.I have to hope that my sense of adventure, the part of me that leads me to want to take on a six-week bike trip, is not going to mislead me into an epically horrible ride.
I am more optimistic in the middle of the day, especially if the wind is calm and the spring sun is bright. How to carry those sun-filled feelings into the dark night of the soul? Or even the darkness of the wilderness tent?