Jake's Epiblogue

First of all, thank all of you for following our trip via the Blog and the satellite tracking (the SPOT is very cool). I really hope you have enjoyed the trip!

This post will do it for me. Marty will probably do his Epiblogue Monday when he gets back to VA. As an aside, someone enter "Epiblogue" in Wikipedia for us, okay? I think it may be an original term! Anyway, I will post some more pictures of the welcoming party and probably annoy folks with a fund-raising reminder e-mail, but after today, http://www.wherearethoseguys.blogspot.com/ and I will part ways.

The Blog became of labor of love. We didn't necessarily love the Blog, but we definitely love you guys (at least those we know!!) and know that some of you made this part of the morning routine. Some days were easier than others to create your coffee reading, I assure you. There were days when hooking up the PC and penning an entry was not what the body screamed for, but we did our best.

Before, during, and after the trip, people asked me if this trip was "life-changing". I can happily answer that question, but you will have to endure the ramblings of Jake (or scroll to the bottom) to discover my answer.

Nearly one million pedal strokes per rider carried us across the USA. That is a lot of saddle time and a lot of time to talk as long as the wind and the riding conditions allowed.

I am a talker. Marty is a talker. This worked out well as we kept the time moving by stretching the bounds of humor at every Seinfeld-esque observation that presented itself. We definitely passed the bounds of humor many times, but on a trip like his, quantity trumps quality. We also shared a lot of funny stories reaching all the way back to early school days. Even religion and politics were fair game. Fortunately we are pretty much on the same page there.

Many, many discussions were centered on family, past and present. These conversations often tailed off into silent reflection as we pedaled along to the sound of our under-lubricated chains dragging the chain rings of our bicycles along.

I cannot speak for Marty here, but in the many hours when talking was impossible, or words were just worn out for the day, family and friends dominated much of my thoughts. I am sure Marty did not notice, but I will admit to being emotionally overwhelmed several times just pedaling along some rural road lost in crooked, twisting corridors in my head.

Not wishing to slight my friends and coworkers individually, I will have to risk slighting them all by keeping the following observations to my immediate family. Rest assured, I truly miss all of you and can't wait to see you. However, I guess I HAVE to say something about Marty!

Marty Dunstan is a strong man. I did not say he was the fastest cyclist in the world, nor does he have the most durable joints in the country - he is, however a very mentally tough, strong man. He is also a great read of people, or at least of me for sure. When I was really sick, despite being one of the biggest blabbermouths this side of me, he seemed to know that SILENT encouragement was what I needed to keep going. Silent encouragement is hard to describe, but it was effective. Marty also freely and regularly shows a truly deep love for his family - another mark of a strong man and a trait I really appreciated. My father had a very high rank for men like Marty Dunstan: Marty is a "GOOD EGG".

Speaking of Dad, my trip and my general love of cycling is riddled with painful, yet poignant irony. Each time I double-checked traffic and potential obstacles, that man would rattle around in my head. Then, as the potential danger passed and the rhythmic pedaling resumed, I would think with a rueful smile about how tough he had to be to support a brood of nine children throughout three tumultuous decades of massive social and economic change (within and without our family). He wasn't the easiest guy but Dad was a grinder and he persevered through some very tough times. I am proud to be a grinder too.

My Mom was an accomplished artist with a creative streak a mile wide. She also had an adventurous spirit that really came through later in life. I do not think I could have considered this trip without having that piece of her running through me. As for the art... each time I looked at an amazing rock formation, a beautiful pastoral setting, a dilapidated farmhouse, or just the sunset on the darkening clouds, she was there. Green was not green, nor was the orange of the sunset orange - you cannot count the hues she could see. Her vision and spirit moved me forward in deep appreciation of the beauty of our country.

The aforementioned "brood", my siblings, all have left their mark on me. Susan, Vinnie, Barb, Julie, Kate, Joe, Joan, and Patrick popped into my head at various times and left me smiling in the knowledge I took a piece of each of them along as I cranked out another mile. Joan and Pat -I want you to know that I learned, and continue to learn, as much from the younger as the elder.

My children, Caitlin and John, probably do not know this, but I would not have been able to do this without them. They are good, strong young adults growing in self-reliance every day. But it is not the comfort of knowing they can live without Dad for a few weeks that makes this possible or even worth doing. I do these crazy things in large part to show them that with a little planning and preparation and a ton of perseverance, an ordinary guy like their Dad can do extraordinary things. Kelly and I are proud to have replaced ourselves on this earth with "upgraded versions" of ourselves and cannot wait to see the ordinary AND extraordinary things they will do in life.

That brings me to Kelly. I am 46 years old and when I met her a few weeks after her 18th birthday and just a few months after my 21st, I knew we would be together, build a family, and create those "upgraded versions" -- must have been that vision my Mom gave me. Anyway, in the solitude of my thoughts on this trip, Kelly was the one person who came to mind not just as specific memories and thoughts - she was almost a concept unto herself. She was a nebulous feeling of complete support and encouraging love that cushioned me and carried me along particularly in my toughest moments. Once again, I find words inadequate, but I know she knows. I love her.

So the answer to the question?

This trip was happily NOT "life-changing". Traveling across the country on a bicycle was life affirming. The memory of the trip and completing it will be a lasting reminder to Jake Scully to be grateful and show gratitude for life as it is.

And it's pretty good, if I do say so myself.

Thanks, and all the best!

Jake