Je Ne Regrette Rien

Sometimes you think you want something, and then you bite off more than you can chew. My bike trip was nearly like that.

Once upon a time, back in July or August 2017, I was pondering how I’d like to celebrate my 40th birthday.

Me 1: “Oh, maybe a cruise. Surely friends would want to go with you, and it would be nice and relaxing.”

Me 2: “Any nearby cruise, wouldn’t feel very exotic. And you already know it’s not your favorite way to travel.”

Me 1: “True. Maybe a trip to France. I love France!”

Me 2: “Airfare is so expensive. Then of course lodging…”

Me 1: “Also, true. Hmmmm…. What about Quebec? They speak French there. You haven’t been anywhere in Canada but Niagara Falls when you were small ish…”

Me 2: “That sounds pretty cool. Let’s do that! We’ll ride the trains, check out the Québécois countryside. It will be magnifique!”

Then my friend mentioned the Route Verte in the Quebec province. “Let’s go ride bikes in Quebec!”

Me 2: “Hells yeah! Let’s do that!!

Very soon after that, I took my 1980-ish Schwinn Traveller to my local bike co-op. There, one of the volunteers/mechanics helped me fix that bike up about as much as it could be fixed up. It took many weeks and hours. 

In December I rode that bike in San Antonio, FL. San Antonio has some hills. That bike didn’t do well on the hills. Neither did I.

That ride scared me.

In January, a friend from the bike co-op convinced me I should build the bike I needed for the trip. He helped me every step of the way. While I got many of the parts from the co-op some things still needed to be bought: pedals, low-rider racks, back panniers, handlebar bag, interruptor brakes, thumb shifters, camping gear, cold weather gear …

Let’s just say any initial budget I had planned for this project went way out the window.

I worried about spending so much. About investing so much money and time into something I wasn’t even sure I’d want to do again.

Yet I still kept plotting and planning. I went on some “practice” camping trips. The first one that I rode fully loaded on felt awful. The fear resurfaced. And the question: “What the hell am I doing this for? What am I trying to prove?”

A few weeks later I rode that same trip on my own. It felt so much better. I rode the same route nearly three hours faster.

But I also got a flat tire on my back wheel on the way home. It took three of us to change it because the back of the frame was so tight. I had some frame changes in mind for after I returned from the trip. They became a priority. I took my bike to a man who took a blowtorch to my bike.

When the bike came back it was ugly, but more functional. Add to the investment…

Friends helped me spray paint the bike. A temporary fix.

I’ve been thinking back on this nearly year process since I returned from the trip. 

A lot of people have been asking questions about the trip:

“Was it awesome?”
“Was it fun?”

I think my real answers are a little disappointing to them. I wouldn’t use those words. The trip was amazing. The Gaspésie is so beautiful. The trip was unlike any other trip I’ve ever done.

But it was also work. Forty to 50 miles a day of pedaling, usually 8 miles an hour. Even with breaks, that’s a goodly bit of work.

Often it was hard. Throughout the week we faced cold temperatures, sometimes with rain. Sometimes the wind was in our face. We faced steep grades: up to 17%!! None of the physical training I did here prepared me for the combination of these things. I live in Florida. It’s hot and flat here…

Yet with these realities, I’m not complaining. I regret nothing. I’m glad I did this trip. I’m glad I challenged myself. I’ve learned so, so, so much along the way: about wrenching bikes, my own thresholds, how tough I can be in crappy weather. 

You want me on your zombie apocalypse team.

I’m also glad I took on this challenge, because I made quite a lot of friends while fixing up that Schwinn and building Socrates. Friends I likely wouldn’t have made any other way. I’m incredibly grateful each of them is part of my life now.

I guess it comes back to the cliché that all things worth having are worth working for. 

And yes, I’ll do future bike tours. I’ll likely shave back the miles and make it a little more leisurely, but I’ll do them. In fact, my next one will be a short jaunt down to Fort DeSoto over the July 4th holiday: a hefty 15ish miles one way.

Non, je ne regrette rien.