Retrospective

On Day 6 we had a detour. I’ve thought about this day for a long time. Not that the detour was that much… I mean at the time I wasn’t happy, but in retrospect a 10, 20 even 30 mile detour on a +3K mile journey a few miles out of the way really isn’t that much. I read once: 

“if it’s not gonna matter in 5 years, don’t spend more than 5 minutes being upset by it.”

Thinking about it in these terms, it’s a no brainer to forget this small inconvenience and move on. Later in the day we met some bikers who had been forced to make the same detour. Well, they did not cut across the gravel road that we did and even that small victory felt enough for me to have my anger subside. 

However there was one thing that I have not been able to stop thinking about. I only mentioned it in one paragraph on the original blog, however I would on and off again think about this one fleeting moment. When I think about the ride I realized there were a million thoughts and no thoughts trough out each day. It’s funny how many things you mind can pass over, return to and leave again. All seeming so important, and so forgettable all the same. But I must admit that there was this small moment that hasn’t truly left my mind, about 20 seconds in a 56 Day journey…. I’m not trying to build it up, it is still kind of silly to me to think about how much time I’ve spent thinking about that church that we just rode by with out a moments thought. 

At the time I was annoyed at the detour, at our pace at how little money I had or how unprepared I felt. I just wanted to keep it moving, but why would you spray paint “keep closed” on a door with chains holding the door closed from the outside. All it would have taken was 30, 40 seconds and I could have looked deeper. I don’t know what I would have seen. I don’t know what I would have done to have my curiosity quenched. However, at the time all I wanted was to go, go, go. So we went. And over the next 50 days I would think I should have just stopped and “smelled the roses”. 

Maybe all of this is another moment where I should have just listened to Jerry and calmed down. Take the road as it comes. Who am I to say our schedule, or where we “should” be. 

Maybe this is a teachable moment for me. Is it about letting things go? Dealing with regret? Knowing when to take the time? 

I would spend much time thinking about this with no concrete answers. However I have come to New York for some work… that did not happen. Things change and I’m ok with that. Of course it would have been nice if things went as planned, but life happens. I took this as an opportunity. I had some extra time on my hands, access to a car, and I am only 600 miles away from taking the moment to get a better look. 

Opportunity presents itself, but not always in an ideal way. -20 degrees fahrenheit with the wind chill. But I thought, I have the time, the car and only 300 miles to drive to see it… who cares about the temperature while driving. 

I woke up early and headed out. As soon as I stepped outside I was shocked at how cold it actually was. But this is a small price to pay to finally know… to finally stop thinking about what could, what was. 

The first few hours went quick. Route 80 and I go way back. It was cold and snowy which actually made the drive kind of majestic. It also gave me some time to think about what it all means. Why something so small could leave me so endlessly questioning such a simple decision? Once I had seen how far I had traveled I knew I would need to head North. I quickly pulled up some directions on my phone and saw I needed to take the next exit. I took the exit and headed toward satisfaction. 

Five minutes after my turn I looked at the size my road and knew I had made a mistake. On the bike you look for the smaller roads. Forbidden on the highway and the general nicer ride on a long meandering country road. However during the record breaking cold snap, driving down a twisting snow covered, ice laden road is not ideal. This road is now dictating my pace. I don’t (sadly) have any where to be at the moment but I also don’t want to make this an entire day venture. My pace has been slowed to around 30 miles per hour. I can push it here or there, but ice and turns don’t make for the best of friends. It is around now when I start to think “what in the actual fuck an I doing?” I have been driving for hours, I will need to drive for hours to get home, for what? A few minutes looking at an old church? This all feels… ridiculous. I understand that I, and most of my life is ridiculous, so this isn’t so unexpected. Luckily my long and twisting road at low speeds and fearing ice at every turn has left me with enough time to question my decision to do this at all. 

After hours of driving and unending questioning my decisions I have finally come close to finally answering all of my questions. I look at the map and see my route today has actually put me just past the church. I’m not 100% but I think this is where we would have turned on to the road… had we followed the actual detour. Maybe this was all for this. Maybe I was meant to see this part of the road, maybe I needed to. Maybe I just have too much time on my hands. 

Snow covered and much time past but the moment I saw the road from the right I knew it was gravel road that we had used as a short cut. It was an odd deja vu. I knew I had actually been here before so it wasn’t as magical as deja vu can be but it was strange to have a place that had such a small interaction with be so ingrained in my mind. This small road that I rode down months ago felt like it was only yesterday… except the heat of our ride verse the snow covered fields of this ride. 

Finally after weeks of riding, months of thinking and hours of driving I know just over this hill there is the object of all of my attention. And for the first time I had a horrible thought. “What if it’s been torn down?” I spent a moment to think about this, but before I could come to any conclusions I saw it. It has not been torn down. Covered in snow and ice, but otherwise the same as the day we rode past. 

I parked. I zipped up my jacket, donned my hat and otherwise prepped myself for the frigid weather. As I stepped out of the car I immediately wished I had more clothes. It was shockingly cold. I took a picture. I took a second, a third and I thought what now? It’s fucking freezing. I grit and bared it for a few minutes before I finally got back in the car. I drove around the back and took a few more photos from the warmth of the car. 

Maybe none of this meant anything. Maybe this was exactly what I supposed to do. Maybe going in the cold and snowy weather was the thing to stop me from doing something stupid like breaking in to an abandoned church; maybe just because it would be wrong or maybe because then I would let out some unholy thing trapped for safety. 

I headed back. Questioning if hours of driving to take a few pictures in the freezing cold was worth it. I got to go over the bridge that was being worked on to cause the detour. I saw it was a small stream that we could have stepped over… even if we were carrying our bikes. 

Luckily I had plenty of drive back to question “what if we had just skipped the detour and walked over the small stream… we wouldn’t have even seen this small abandoned church!”

P.S. While writing this I came across this:

“I feel like it should actually be if won’t matter in 5 hours, don’t worry more than 5 minutes. If it won’t matter in 5 months, don’t worry more than 5 days. If it won’t matter in 5 years, don’t worry more than 5 months.”

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MikeDiazTheFirst

Mike was born in Queen, New York to a blue collar family. An avid self educator, artist, and traveler he’s traveled around the globe three times while immersing himself in the culture of 48 different countries and counting.  Read about his journeys and musings here.

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