Postmortem

I finished writing these posts months ago, but I’ve been stalling, because when I’m done sharing then it will truly be over.

And so here we are.

As I write this final dispatch from the comfort of my new home in Chiang Mai, I’m forced to wonder what it all means. What was it for? Am I just supposed to fade back into society, no better or worse for the wear? Because it has been disappointingly easy to do so - to slip right back into a practiced, sedentary routine. Isn’t something supposed to be different? Sure, now I play pickleball seven days a week with a bunch of retirees, but I don’t think that counts. Butterfly Effect 2: easy on the knees.

I am not alone in such confusion. Tim Cope, who spent three years on horseback retracing the path of Ghengis Khan, reflected upon returning home: “A part of me felt in exile, and I found it difficult to understand the relevance of all I had learned and witnessed.” For the most part, I think I have to accept that this was mostly just an aimless joy ride. But there is something in that, for isn’t it remarkable that I rode 33,000 miles through 25 countries (26 if you count a foot in China) and experienced essentially no real adversity? On one hand, I’m terribly disappointed - I wanted a harrowing adventure from which I could not possibly emerge unscathed. On the other, I am proud of humanity for opening its arms and granting me safe passage.

And yet.

For a year I was somebody. An adventurer atop a mighty steed in a strange land. Now I’m just another schmuck on a scooter in Southeast Asia. As I putt around like a dweeb, pondering these questions silently inside my helmet, will anyone know that I used to be a hero?

But in fact, adventure is a beautifully relative experience, because we all know and fear different things. My journey would be tame to some, and unimaginable to others. I personally think bicyclists are mad. Just boarding a plane is a feat for some. The truth is, as long as you push yourself past your comfort zone, well there you are. You adventurer you.