We're at the 83 mile marker on Hwy 12, 85 miles into the journey. Today we managed 38 miles with a doozey of a side wind--up to 50 mph we think, and consistently over 25 mph. We had to split those 38 miles into two segments, with a nap in the camper in between. Tomorrow things should turn around, though, and we expect a tail wind will help push us into to Gascoyne, ND.
Only three times have I wondered if we're crazy for doing this--at one low point during today's struggle with the wind, and twice yesterday as I looked down and saw my feet pedaling around and around. This really is one pedal stroke closer to the monastery at a time. And each of the three of us has to do it on her own. Sort of. We support and encourage each other, but no one else can make those pedals go around for any of us. At the same time, we're definitely in this together--we can only go as fast as the slowest, tiredest, sorest, crankiest one among us can go during any given stretch. Rather like life in general, and like life in a monastery, but perhaps amplified.
Not only the biking but the camping is encouraging us to stretch and bond as a family--to communicate our needs and desires clearly, to be willing to adjust and adapt plans (and relinquish the security of any definite plan beyond the hour or possibly the day), to find more than an average day's amount of mercy, and to remember to laugh at the silly stuff--again, amplified lessons for life post pilgrimage. May we keep these lessons close.