Back in the saddle

Hiya folks! Sorry as always for the delay in posting. It turns out that in the west there is a lot of space without much in it (and we like it that way!) so internet has been scarce.

Most importantly, I'm back in the saddle! After only two days in the van for my injury, I was able to hop back on a bike, and I've been riding ever since. I was very pleasantly surprised at how quickly I recovered, and now I feel as good as new. The last week or so has been really great. All the rides have been wonderful--while it's definitely quite hot, we haven't had anything over 80 miles...and that's a treat for us! With these sorts of shorter days, I usually roll into the town/village/hamlet/collection of two houses and a barn/etc by midafternoon, giving me plenty of time to do what I please. This usually involves reading (currently reading A Long Way Gone by Ishmael Beah which is heartbreaking and intense but recommended), practicing, studying my music, going to the library when one exists, and occasionally, as a treat, napping.

This summer has been very interesting for me musically. Which is ironic, since I'm not officially doing anything musical. But I've learned to stand on my own two feet when it comes to learning music, and that has been really fun. I'm preparing a recital for the fall, and as I work on my music I've been coming up with all sorts of questions regarding interpretation, musicality, etc. In my former life, I would have run straight to a coach. "What does Debussy mean by these markings here?" I might ask. But since that's not an option this summer, I have to say, "Well, Abby, you have a degree in music. What do YOU think he means?" I admit, I have emailed my teacher with a couple questions, but for the most part I've come to my own conclusions and it has been extremely rewarding. That said, I'm looking forward to getting back to school and starting to collaborate with a pianist, study formally, and rub elbows with like-minded folk.

That's not to say that my dear Bike and Builders aren't talented though! A few nights ago we had a talent show, and it was absolutely one my favorite events from the trip. I laughed so hard my abs were sore the next day. We had a juggler, impressionists, dancers, a poet, and a Bike and Build Rodeo compeition, where Jake and Bryant raced to see who could unroll and inflate a thermarest, change a tube on a tire, and deflate and reroll the thermarest fastest. It was hilarious (Jake came from behind for the win). I also sang an aria, which was--if I may say--by FAR the lamest offering of the evening.

Speaking of the rodeo, we also went to a real one, in Stone, Idaho. While I'm not sure I'm a full supporter of rodeos, due to the treatment of the animals involved, I decided I just had to go because, really, when am I going to have the chance again? It was really fun, I have to admit, even though I did feel sorry for the cows getting thrown around. The announcer was awesomely cheesy, the cowboys were genuine, and it was an all-around great evening. I think my favorite moment though was when I saw a cowboy--chaps, spurs, hat and all--ride by on his horse, texting.

Another highlight of the past week or so was our day off in Boise. I'd heard that Boise is a neat city, and it is. I spent most the day running errands and getting prepared for the craziness that is this fall, but it was actually nice to have a to-do list again. I also practiced for a long time and it went the best that it's gone all summer. I have a lot of very exciting singing to do after the trip, and so having some great practice time really got me pumped.

Anyway, now we're in Hines, Oregon. It was Jon's last day today. He has to leave early because he starts med school on the 14th, and so we got extra rowdy to send him off. It was a great ride, only 60 miles with two small mountain passes, and afterward Jon's family bought us all ice cream. Yes!

It's hard to believe we have less than two weeks to go. Bike and Build has become such a lifestyle for me. While I remember my past life, and think with great anticipation about what is to come, there's a part of me that believes I've always been on this trip, and always will be. I've found actually, that biking across the country is a great metaphor for life, especially achieving a goal. When we began in South Carolina, I couldn't really even conceptualize what it was I was doing. I knew the Pacific Ocean was out there somewhere, but it seemed so distant it wasn't really real. I didn't think about that much actually. I just got on the bike every day, and rode. It was a couple of days before I even started to get excited about the next state, and after the first one it seemed like the second wouldn't come for an eternity. But every day I got on the bike, and rode. Pretty soon the states started to tick by faster, and before I knew it, I was looking at a map, aghast that I had bicycled across five states. How did that happen??? All I did was get on my bicycle every day.

I may not be a sage, but I AM 25 after all, and I think this is exactly how it is in life. Anything you want to achieve, be it an operatic career, an advanced degree, a million dollars, a marathon, at first seems impossible to the point of absurdity. But the thing is, you don't have to bicycle across the country in one day. You just get on your bicycle every day, and you ride. You don't question it, you just do it. It becomes routine. Some days you dread it. Some days it's hot, and your arms ache and your butt is chafing. Some days, when the alarm goes off at 4:30 you kick yourself for ever thinking this was a good idea. But still, you get on your bicycle, and you ride. And on some days, when the air is cool and the road is smoothe and the Earth looks like heaven around you, you realize that that's why you get out on your bicycle every day. Not for the Pacific Ocean, but because it feels so damn GOOD to ride your bicycle. Your dream is still there of course, and it takes a lot of hard work to get there. But you don't do it in a day. You create a lifestyle that has the rewards built in, and splashing in the salt water is the icing on the cake.

Sarah Roberts said something else the other day, which really kind of encapsulated this experience for me. She said that while we might be vagabonds on the road, with no home of our own, at the end of the day, we get to come home to each other. And I've started to realize how much we have become a family--complete with drama and tensions--and how much this family means to me. I often ride alone these days, by my own choice and for various reasons, but I always smile at the thought of coming home. Home is a church that I haven't seen, in a town I'll surely never visit again, but inside are 31 amazing people who I've known for so little time but for so much life, and I am always so excited to see them.