The Flats of the UP

I pushed off from the sleepy town of Grand Marais, Michigan this morning. It was probably around 10am, but it felt alot earlier. As I coasted through town on this cloudy start to the day, the air was a bit heavy from the rain that had fallen over night. Near the bank, I hung a left on to H58, the highway that would carry me to Munising some 48 miles west. Just out of town, I entered Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. The first handful of miles brought me up and down a rollercoaster of hills - a much welcomed change in terrain from the flat roads I have been on since entering the Upper Peninsula of Michigan 3 days ago. The road wound itself through thick deciduous forests. The trees arched over the roadway and with the muted light from an overcast day, the green was more brilliant and crisp. The forest floors were covered with ferns and Queen Anne's Lace speckled the roadsides gently swaying and bowing in the breeze. I eventually came up out from the depths of the forest. The road flattened and straightened out. I rode along the coniferous landscape. Cat tails and wild daisies lined my path. The tall grasses and reeds from the swamps on the sides of the road danced in the wind as the sweet smells of nature were swirled around me.

Many miles of flat, straight, narrow concrete laid out before me. My route became almost identical from my ride yesterday from Paradise to Grand Marais. As I was descending a small hill, I began to think about how yesterday (August 16th), one year ago, I was on my way home from my journey back to Korea. I remember feeling so estranged from my life back in Minnesota after my 2 weeks in Korea. I felt nervous, sad, and confused about how my life would make sense once I was back home. I had left so much of myself in Korea and I let Korea in so deeply to my core that it felt like a great loss to have to leave. Today would have been my first full day back in St. Paul. I remember sitting in my apartment in a haze of exhaustion and sadness. I couldn't move. I couldn't process. I felt like so much had just been ripped away from me. It took a couple of weeks to regulate my sleep cycle and my emotions once I returned. Today as I was cycling along I felt it somewhat odd and disconnected that while one year ago I was struggling with coming home, today I was very much looking forward to coming home. Every turn of the crank I was just a bit closer to being back in my hometown, my house, my own bed, and surrounded with those things and those people that mean the most to me.

This trip has been lonely at times. I often wonder what it would have been like if I would have been completely on my own. Would I still feel as lonely sometimes? Would I enjoy the solitude? It's hard to say. What I do know is that I miss my friends and family back home. It's nice to be able to stay connected via technological outlets, but it's not the same as being with them. I've always struggled with connecting to people. I could name many reasons as to why I think this is. My biggest fear with attachment is the loss that will inevitably happen - someone moves away, someone dies, someone stops engaging, dynamics change. Rolling with the ever-changing ways that relationships of any kind ebb and flow has always left me feeling terribly unsettled. I worry that through these changes, I will inevitably be left behind. I've experienced tremendous loss in important and crucial relationships in my life. The impacts of these losses are pain that I very much still carry with me today. One thing this ride has made me realize is my intense need for a sense of belonging and security. There are wonderful people back home who, without even trying, allow these feelings to come forward. It's not something I experience with everyone I cross paths with. Biking for anywhere from 4 -9 hours or more a day by myself, it puts into perspective for me how much I love and need those who I have allowed to get close to me. I miss them. Their faces, our stories, and other random memories of all of them keep me company on my ride. I am looking forward to getting together once I am back home.

I knew that I would lose weight on this ride. Biking as much as I knew I would be and not being able to consume that many calories, there was no question in my mind. I weighed myself before I left. I am getting really curious as to what I will weigh when I get back. I've noticed changes in my body almost daily - the way my shirts hang, the way my shorts fit, how I notice definition here or there where there hadn't been as much, or any at all - my neck near my collarbones, my back, my arms, my legs. I've been on an intentional kick to lose some weight for about 2 years now. While the results have been constant, they've also been slow. For the past 4 months as I trained for this ride, I experienced more obvious results from weight lifting. For the past 13 days since being on this bike ride, I feel like there have been drastic changes that are happening right before my eyes. I think about life post ride. I'll have a few days to relax and then my doctoral program will begin. I start my research assistantship on Monday, August 29th and the following week, classes start. I know it's going to be a busy and challenging year. After biking at least 48 miles a day, but mostly the average has been around 60 miles or so, I think about how all this will change once I am home and once school is in full swing. As the polar opposite of a morning person, I may have to suck that up and try and train my body to become a morning person so I can get my workouts in early. I've got a couple handfuls of weight to lose to reach my goal weight and after the weightloss I experience on this trip, I don't want to gain it back. This trip has definitely put into perspective the "long" bike rides I did when I was training. It also puts into perspective the notion of "hills." Yeah.

I've got one week (7 days) left of this ride - a few more days in Michigan and a couple days in Wisconsin before crossing the bridge to Duluth, where it all began. I'm hoping the scenery changes. Michigan has been very flat - boringly so. I miss the lake. I haven't seen much of it since I've been here. It gives me energy and fuels my thoughts and processes of my ongoing quest of finding self and place. Last night, in Grand Marais, being able to walk along the shores of the lake and dip my feet in every now and then allowed me to connect as intimately as I can to this great lake. I felt the energy move through my body and was immediately overcome with a sense of intense serenity and balance. Even as I've ridden along, when I can catch quick glimpses of the lake, the effects are immediate and an instant calm and sense of becoming re-centered take over. All seems right and I feel connected and established in who I am, where I am, and that I am to be doing what I am doing right there in that moment. It all makes sense. I need the lake.