Jeremy to the West

June 14 2018 Thurs $37 Day 31

Riding the Greyhound back home was like rewinding over each day of my trip. I was able to point out restaurants I'd eaten at or reluctantly passed up, highway bathrooms I'd used, places I'd stayed the night, hills or sights or bends that I could recall upon seeing again. There was a sort of nostalgia to it, which is odd to think since it all happened over the course of just a month. But the familiar sights across eastern Alberta and especially Saskatchewan and Manitoba felt like I'd first encountered them a lifetime ago. I guess it must've been the relationship between space and time distorting my memories.

When I arrived back in Winnipeg—sore from 38 hours of bus travel—my mum picked me up from the terminal so I wouldn't have to reassemble my bike and ride it through the rain. Having nothing to screw my pedal back in place with, the alternative would've been a one-pedal ride. Of course, the catch for this service was that I'd have to take out our old neighbour's garbage, as she'd filled the bag too full and couldn't lift it. Back to reality, I guess.

After the chore was done, she dropped me off at the house and I quickly took my belongings inside. It feels great to be home. Even if my roommates are shitheads.

I learned a lot on this trip, but I think the most important thing I found is that you can do just about anything if you want it hard enough and you take a chance on it. I rode 170km in one day so I could spend a night in an actual city. I made it to Calgary a day earlier than predicted and could've even seen my friends if I'd thought up a method of seeing in the dark. I found shelter in the storm at Roger's Pass and though I didn't know it at the time—wet and freezing that night—the worst of the Rockies was behind me. I asked everyone I could for a way to remove the pedals from my bike in order to board my bus and at the last moment, it came to me. I told everybody I was gonna ride a bicycle to Vancouver and by constantly applying one foot before the other, I damn well did.

I'm not usually the most grateful individual in the world—call it a character flaw—but I'm damn thankful to everyone for the support I received. All the honks from passing cars, conversations with total strangers, directions or rides and definitely everyone cheering me on through social media. You kept me going when I had doubts and it means the world to me.

In the first entry of this journal, I asked a question. I wasn't really asking it at the time; it was more just an exclamation of my stupidity as I was beginning to realize what I was getting myself into. Regardless, it has an answer now. Everything written in these pages. This is why I did it.

Strathmore AB, where I endured a failure most dishonourable.

Brooks AB is where I was dropped off the first time I had a flat tire.