Trail Angels
Dearest gentle readers (please imagine Julie Andrews’s voice for the rest of this).
I have finally joined this adventure for good and feel the need to add to the blog. I know Bryan has been weaving the trail lessons he has learned into his stories like the professional writer that he is, but don’t expect that from me; I draw pretty pictures. That said, I do feel that this experience has taught me some things that I would like to share.
The main lesson that has been solidifying in my head for the last few days is that people can do hard things. A friend of mine told me that she often repeats the mantra “I can do hard things,” and I have been mulling over that lately. As Bryan has explained, one of the special things about this trail is meeting the incredible people and realizing that everyone does this at their own pace. For some people, the “hard” things are the climbs; for others, it is the miles; and for many, they admit it is actually the mental game. No one out here seems to judge what is hard for others, big or small; they just try to help.
For me, the hard thing about this “eat, pray, love” journey of Bryan’s has been getting left behind (I know what you are thinking, it isn’t the hours in the van or trying to find wifi to work remote or the constant battle of keeping this man fed?). Something I have had to reckon with as I have gotten older is that I do NOT like being alone. While I am a “strong, independent woman,” I prefer being strong and independent in the same house as Bryan. The house is quiet, things break, and hard decisions have to be made, but mostly, there isn’t anyone to tell about my day or watch bad TV with. None of this is a surprise to me as my husband frequently goes off the grid on hunting trips; this is just the longest we have been apart with limited cell service. But enough complaining about lonely ole me; the point of all of this is to say that I, too, can do hard things. I got in a rhythm, leaned on my Santa Fe support system, and found my way. Watching these riders get up every day and get on their bikes for 10+ hours at a time over the last few days has been a fascinating lesson in doing hard things. I can assure you that no one is particularly jazzed about getting back in the bike seat day after day, but they put one foot ahead of the other and try to help each other out along the way.
So many people have been helping Bryan throughout this journey. I have been in awe of the kindness of strangers that have “trail angeled” for him, and I was excited to get up here and pay a little of that back, but I wasn’t prepared for the level that some have taken it to. The Llama Ranch, as Bryan mentioned, was a really special place, and I found myself taken by John and Barbara's mission of “paying it forward.” They have dedicated their lives to these small acts of kindness, cooking and providing for others at no cost and hoping that they have a ripple effect through their work. It was certainly effective for me as I spent the day after the ranch shuttling a biker 45 minutes in one direction before going an hour and a half in the other to arrive at Ovando and find another biker who needed a ride 30 minutes back the way I had come. (Stacey, if you made it this far, don’t panic about me picking up strangers, I could take any of these sweet souls out with my can of bear spray).
Watching these riders meet for 24 hours and become fast friends, trade food, advice, gear, and more has been really inspiring. And seeing people help them out of the kindness of their hearts has been even more inspiring.
So here are the takeaways. YOU CAN DO hard things. What is hard for one person may be different from what is hard for you. The best way to do a hard thing is to just, well…do it! And maybe help each other out along the way, because after all, everyone you meet is doing a hard thing in their own life.
