After three years of bicycle touring, I have come to a point where cycling in the states has become tame. It’s all the same really, after several small towns, a large city will come about. Its then when you gather yourself and recover from the isolation, speak to a few of the locals and have a couple of brews. It is rare to find yourself stuck without provisions, and when you do it isn’t hard to continue down the road. Usually a small country store, or petrol station has something edible. There is little need to stock up in situations like these. Clean water is quite abundant and many of the taps in town offer potable water. North America could be considered the Primary First World of First World countries.
After such lavish accommodations, the next and natural step for an adventure cyclist is to take on the rural and arguably third world continent of South America. I personally don’t find the task very challenging, and this bloated Ego is to blame. I know I’ve set the bar high for myself, cycling the span of two continents isn’t a challenge many take. It’s a dream for thousands, and for tens as many; regrettably unattainable.
The steps to accomplishing such goal seems childish, for this [dream] has its beginnings in a very young part of myself. One in which I’ve refused to forget. Its a part of me that loves getting lost for the shear task of finding my way, a part of me that is akin to those who wish to travel without borders. Wanderlust, witnessing an unending span of land that is free to anyone who wishes to cross it, is the true essence of a nomad. There is an insatiable hunger for a feeling of boundlessness, it drives me to find the next big thing. Anything less digs up the age old feeling of worthlessness and self pity.
Till then, I will be spending my time trying to focus on what the Pan-American Highway can offer.