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Day 2.
I haven't done the "re-integration" write up yet for several reasons. The two main ones being that I am currently trying to write a book about my AT trip, and that the time right after the trail is not a time I like to often revisit. But, since you asked I thought I might write a MTB specific analogy to hiking the trail, and then end it with the emotions and mental hurdles I went through after hiking the AT.
(EDIT). Wow this went long. I thought of starting a separate thread for this, but I don’t want this to become a “look what I did” kind of thing. My intention for this thread is a “I accomplished a lifelong dream and it was great. if you have the same dream, I want to help you get there” kind of thing
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Imagine that there is a dedicated MTB path from NJ to Alaska that takes anywhere from 4 to 6 months to ride.
Because this MTB path is not a secret, hundreds if not thousands of other people are doing it too. Not everyone starts on the same day though, so the peloton you are with consists of around 15 people. Everyone talks to each other about gear and how many miles they are planning to do in a given time. Your excitement is high. Everything is interesting because it is all a brand new experience to you.
Almost from day one, people, who are not MTB riders, come out of seemingly nowhere to wish you luck on your journey, and some even give you food!
Even though there is a peloton of people starting at the same time, everyone's pace is so varied you wind up riding most of the day by yourself, and only meet up with others at certain scenic areas and at camp at the end of the day.
After a few days your “starting peloton” breaks off into smaller MTB pelotons based on how many miles per day people are riding, and who gets along with who.
After the first week or so, the “did I bring the right gear, do I have enough food” fears start to go away and everyone starts to loosen up and talk to each other more.
You have ridden through weather associated with all 4 of the seasons.
Over the next several weeks the cast of characters in your small peloton keep changing. Everyone's body is reacting differently to riding all day everyday and almost everyone winds up taking an unexpected day off to let there bodies recover.
A month or so into riding your body is turning into a cycling machine, and so is everyone else's. Everyone's miles per day are going way up. Gear talk is almost non existent as that subject has been exhausted. Other MTB riders you talk to are now opening up about more personal subjects. There’s something about exercising 8 to 12 hours a day that softens peoples protective shells. Including yours.
You realise, if you haven’t already, that there are all kinds of people on the trail and around the campfire at night. Rich, poor, man, woman, Blue collar, white collar, old, and young people are all talking to each other and are having great conversations. The trail is the great equalizer. Everyone gets the same respect because everyone has done the same thing. They have seen great things, they have suffered, and they are persevering.
Three months on the trail and you are now in the best shape of your life. You have gone through some tough terrain and your body is stronger because of it.
You are always hungry, and oh by the way, I forgot to mention that you have lost over 30 pounds off a body that needed to lose maybe 10 pounds.
All the peloton switching has calmed down drastically. People still switch between pelotons but it’s less common. You may even have a trail family, Lets call it your personal peloton. Your personal peloton is still riding with the larger one, but when you go into town to resupply, eat town food, and maybe stay in a hotel, you do that together.
By this time the generosity of others is mind blowing. People bring you to stay at their homes. They invite you to eat steak with them at their family picnic, and treat you like family. They give you rides to places far off trail. They leave, and sometimes even cook, food for you on the trail. And they do all this because they connect with what you are doing in someway, and would like to help. Thats it. No hidden agendas, just a simple human connection.
You find that you have become a sort of homeless celebrity. People have been asking to take pictures with you
Five months in and you have just gone across the Rocky Mountains, something that has been talked about since the beginning of your trip. It was the last major milestone before hitting Alaska. People are congratulating you, even though you still have a ways to go. Its a little weird.
Did I mention that you are always hungry?
Your body is showing signs of wear. Its a little...ok, a lot harder to get on the bike every time you stop for a break. Your cardio however is pro athlete level as there isn’t anyone else that has time to exercise as much as you do. You find that when you stop moving, your heart rate quickly plummets down to your resting heart rate, which is very low.
You might not be the fastest MTBer on the trail, but compared to the casual day biker you are godlike.
You realize that you are happy, and that you have been for the last five months.
As you get closer to the finish line you are of two minds. One mind is super excited that you are about to complete your goal. The other mind doesn’t want it to end.
Six months in and your standing on an epic mountain in the most beautiful part of Alaska. Its the northern terminus of the MTB trail. You and your Personal Peloton, as well as some people from the bigger peloton, crowd around the sign at the top. You take turns hugging each other and taking pictures of each other standing on the sign while holding your bike. Its an epic picture.
And then… it’s all over.
You coast down the mountain, get a ride to the local hostel and call it a day. The mood in the hostel is different than it has been in hostels for the last six months. Between the distraction of figuring out the logistics of getting home, and the shock of getting off the trail, there isn’t a lot of conversation going on.
You get on a plane and sit in one place for 12 hours. The inflammation that has been attacking your body for the last several months roasts your joints like a thanksgiving turkey in the oven. By the time you get home it hurts to walk and going up and down stairs is something to be avoided.
You arrive back in the suburbs of eastern NJ. Your family is happy to see you and you are happy to see them, but you really rather be back on the trail somewhere.
You try to ride your local trails but your body demands rest and will not take no for an answer. You stop after a few minutes and go home.
You find that your bladder has become very wimpy. After six months of being able to pee basically anywhere, the once common task of “holding it” until you find a bathroom has become difficult. Also you find that a flush toilet and a hot shower that's available anytime to be one of humanities greatest accomplishments.
You find that you want to talk about the MTB trail to everyone you meet. You want to tell them how your faith in humanity has been restored. You want to tell them of your epic adventure, and soon find out that you have just completed a very difficult, very awesome, and completely un-relatable experience.
After a six month long endorphin high, you crash. Hard.
During the same time, people are talking to you without realizing that you are not quite the same person that they knew six months ago.
You have spent the last 6 months with nothing but time and exercise on your hands. You have had countless hours to think about different aspects of life. You have had several revelations, ones seared in your mind, and others that hours of exercise have erased from your conscious mind. You have also had countless hours in that kind of “exercising Zen” mode. The mode in which you just keep turning the cranks and think of nothing at all. That has done something to you, but it will take you a long time to realize exactly what.
You hear people complaining about the most mundane things and you want to slap them.
You see a lot of the people in your neighborhood who only go to work, mow the lawn, and watch netflix. The thought occurs to you that these people are just waiting to die but haven't realized it yet.
The term “Muggle” becomes something that comes to mind a lot.
This mindset lasts for about a month.
Eventually your mood and your body starts to get a little better.
You go back to work at your old job.
You bike when you can and even get out for a few days at a time here and there, although that now seems like a woefully short period of time.
You start writing a blog about your MTB adventure to help you process the ten years of activities you somehow squeezed into 6 months. That seems to help.
You begin to write a book about your adventure and make good progress until you have a bit of writers block.
You remember that 6-7 years ago you really enjoyed hiking and decide to pick that up again.
You go the old hiking website you used to visit because you wanted to see what was going on “in the scene”, and wind up posting a thread in the “other sports” section. Thinking that Hikers probably also ride bikes and may wish to one day ride that great MTB trail to Alaska.
You write an absurdly long response to a simple question.
You want to remind everyone that most dreams are attainable if you are willing to sacrifice a few short term things, do a lot of research, get your wheels pointed in the right direction, and keep those pedals turning.
