Going on these short bike trips is wonderful but there is always a bit of depression that sets in afterwards. Whenever I am away, I feel light as a feather. "In the moment," I suppose. The only thing I have to worry about is what is right in front of my tire.
When I return home, the weight of my responsibilities falls again on my shoulders. Rent. Bills. Taxes. Bike advocacy. My commitments to the various groups I belong to. Granted, relative to others, it is not very much. I don't have a mortgage or am a CEO of a failing institution. I have it pretty good. Kahil Gibran put it best when he wrote, "the cup of misery is always full." However big or small our burdens, they consume us.
So, I'm at my desk. Fishing through my emails that have accumulated in the three days I haven't been checking it. And a little bit at a time, that lightness I had gets heavier and heavier. I look at the photos from this past weekend to make sure I wasn't dreaming. And although I only just got back yesterday, it begins to feel like an eternity. Did I really stand around a campfire talking with friends as the rain fell around us? Did I really ride all the way from the ocean to the mountains? Was I dreaming that beautiful vanilla colored light that hit our tents just before the sun went behind the trees?
Is there a way for me to just keep "going"? I read of others that are on multi-year world tours and I'm envious. But can I really do it? Can I cut the umbilical cord and go? It gets tempting every time I contemplate it and in my head I have already started to say my good-bye's to this life as I prepare for my next.