By Virginia Mudd
Think studying a ''Cycling significant other Wanted'' advert in a bicycling publication for a cross-America motorcycle journey, answering it, and atmosphere off months later with a girl you simply met for a 3,500-mile, 60-day trip from California to Washington, DC. Taken from Virginia's magazine this tells the tale of 2 twenty-nine 12 months previous adventurers who satisfy a standard dream. She remembers exhilarating roads and landscapes, tedious miles, peaceable occasions, frightening stories, own struggles, great encounters with humans, and the unfolding of a trip of an entire life.
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I didn’t consciously realize the extent of this enormous sense of guilt until I was thirty; I only knew that when the first energy crisis came in 1973, followed two years later by the long California drought, I became a compulsive and fanatic conservationist. It took me several years of therapy and introspection to understand that, on a subconscious level, I felt the drought was my fault and that I had complete responsibility for saving gas—my own and everyone else’s. A short time before the long gas lines formed, I had bought a bicycle, along with thousands of Americans caught up in the bicycle craze.
The more I cried, the less it hurt, and the longings for home and Tony subsided as twilight fell upon us. Having gotten over my first emotional mountain, we pushed on, caught up with Dave, and arrived in Jackson—Gold Country—by seven that evening. One discovery we made over and over again on our trip, which always surprised and delighted us, was how eager people were to help us. So many times we were the beneficiaries of local folks’ generosity and care. That evening we had the first of these surprises.
Instead of being supportive and enthusiastic about the trip, he was negative and discouraging. I began feeling more and more on my own, realizing my actions and decisions were totally mine. I would get no approval or support from those I’d always hoped to receive it from. My mother’s reaction was another surprise. I can’t say she liked the idea, but she seemed to understand why I was going, something even I didn’t fully understand. She and my stepfather Bill showed a great deal of interest in Carol and our proposed route.
Across America on the Yellow Brick Road, Cycling into a New Life by Virginia Mudd