A Sense of Place

Coming out of the mist.

Recently, most of our riding has been in the middle of corn fields on very quiet roads.  This not a bad thing for the most part, except that it is without shade and hot, and there are not many services (as mentioned in the previous post).  It is also very flat which means that it is easy in a certain way, albeit a tad boring. (I will regret saying this when we hit the Rocky Mountains, I am sure.)  Without traffic, or hills, or many turns, I have a lot of time to reflect.

For the past couple of days, I have been thinking about what I miss about home.  I have been thinking about yearning and loss.  As I have mentioned before, my dad at the end of May of this year.  Part of the motivation to do the trip, was inspired by him.  I miss him.  My mother died thirteen years ago in August.  So in terms of my biological parents I am an orphan.  I am however blessed with a loving step-mother so I still have a living parent, for which I am grateful.  Parents are often one way we ground ourselves.  They are our roots.  My step-mother still lives in the town in which I grew up.  So, with the loss of my dad, I feel a bit less grounded in terms of my history.

Another way one grounds oneself is with a sense of place – where we grew up, where we call home.  I live in Bedford, MA right now, but have called many other cities “home” including San Francisco and Philadelphia. (Ironically, I lived the first two years of my life in Bedford and then my family moved to Newton.)  For me however, it is not so much the geographical place as it is the people who occupy it that give me a sense of place.  Sure, there is something reassuring about a familiar coffee house or bike path, but it is really the connections I have with my friends and family that make a place feel like home.

As the weeks pass on the road, I miss my friends and family and the day to day connections.  It is much harder to be in touch when touring, even by phone.  Sometimes, like today, there isn’t cell phone service and other times I have neither the time nor the energy to really connect with people back in Massachusetts.  (I am very glad that I am not doing this solo.  Traveling with my partner, David is a great comfort and he is good company.  We work as a team and try to keep each other going when it gets tough.) 

Traveling – seeing new terrain, meeting new people, and challenging myself on the bicycle – is what I am doing now.   In some ways, it is comforting to miss my “peeps.”  It means that I have something to go back to when we return.  It means that I have a place that I call home.