Trading Places

As the rain pours down on a busy Thursday afternoon in Sequim, WA, we find ourselves shacked up in a somewhat empty coffee shop, wondering what the heck we have done with our lives. The locals tell us that there's a storm coming in, and we better take cover because it's gonna be a doozy. We look back at the road behind us, eighty grueling miles and a ferry ride between us and our moms' hot casserole. We look at the road ahead, 5,166 grueling miles and several multi-day ferry rides without our moms' hot casserole; it's going to be a long, long ride. But our vows stay the same, we will keep pedaling until we run out of wonder. We wonder what it will be like to complete our first thousand miles; we wonder what the trees look like in Honduras; we wonder how much the food will cost in Mexico; we wonder how tall the people are in Columbia; we wonder what the road has in store for us to learn; we wonder what God has layed meticulously in front of us for us to conquer; we wonder how big lake Titicaca really is; we wonder how small we really are; we wonder what the Earth looks like from less than 20 miles per hour; and we wonder how much we have missed in our fast-paced American lives.


Tyler's bike in downtown Port Townsend Wednesday morning, parking before going into the outdoor store to buy some stove fuel, a dry sack and a spork for Mikey, and long johns for Stephen.
Tyler and Mike hold a short conference to discuss how to fix a faulty chain link on Stephen's bike, The Clever Girl.
Tyler counsels Mike on how to properly load film onto his new camera before finishing the many-sloped journey to Sequim Bay State Park. NOTE: since Mike and Tyler are primarily shooting with film, their pictures will become available on a more delayed basis than these digitals.

It has only been three days since we left, but I feel as if I've already learned a couple of the types of lessons I was longing for when I envisioned this trip. I've learned about the speed of the people of the world, and the incredible juxtaposition of the speed of the Earth. Riding slowly up a seemingly endless mountain road puts a new idea in one's head about the stillness of the nature around us. I can hear the silence as my legs pedal vigorously and my lungs burn from the cold air. It helps me to forget. To forget how absulutely exhausted I really am, how uncomfortably cold it really is, and how much more incredibly difficult it's really going to get! My mind stays blank as my legs robotically keep moving and lethargy seeps slowly in through each and every one of my joints. I know we will get into better shape. I know that we will get better at packing up our stuff. I know we will get better at budgeting our funds. I know that every single day is going to be a lifechanging and and difficult challenge, resulting in new knowledge and wisdom at every single stop. This is going to be SO worth it.