Over the past two decades, I’ve been around the world a couple times. Usually on assignment, which means that everything is organized and paid for by someone else. Once I leave the house, I don’t really have to worry about logistics, it’s nice and allows me to focus on the assignment. Nothing kills getting into a creative groove more than dealing with logistics and finances.
Of course, there is the occasional visa application, local contact research, etc, but when I go on assignment, I have a solid structure in place and people around to help and let me focus on creative.
In 2017, I went to Barbuda on a personal project and really had to deal with the weight of having to manage everything. It was a huge learning experience and mental challenge. Besides dealing with the actual logistics, I understood the danger of having idle time by yourself, when your mind can wander…
After visiting the Sea Otter Classic a few weeks ago, I stopped along the Central California coast to ride my bike up Highway 1.
This adventure had been on my list for a while, and given the closure of the Highway around Limekiln State Park, I figured this was the time. Little to no traffic.
I left Laguna Seca Racetrack (location of Sea Otter Classic) in the early afternoon and cruised down the 101 and then the 41 west to Cambria. While on the 41, I realized that I had forgotten my triangle camera strap at home, something I would need to bring my camera on the ride without it sliding around and becoming obnoxiously annoying. Having no one to bounce this off of with me, my mind went into all kinds of scenarios like: “Is it worth it to go if I can’t bring the camera?”
I found a hardware store in Cambria and spent 15 minutes assembling parts to build a strap and mount system from scratch, cost under $10. Take that, negative thoughts!
Next mind barrier: Did I really want to stay at this Motel 6? This was in San Simeon and the hotel was $59. I checked in. It was 4ish in the afternoon. I had nothing to do. I started hearing big trucks zooming by on the 1 going north outside my window. Not great. I looked outside and the wind was going pretty strong. Not good.
Had there been someone with me, I doubt that any of these thoughts would have surfaced or at least dug themselves in very deep. I realized I needed to get out of the room and occupy myself with something so I walked to the beach. At this point I was all set for a ride I had been wanting to do for months and I my mind was still trying to find reasons to bail. I recognized it and almost had to laugh at myself. I also made a conscious decision to not let my fears mess with me. I was going. So I got that overpriced Burrito to have some fuel for the next day.
I left at 7 am. There was barely any traffic and after 15-20 minutes, I was fairly warmed up and coasting along. Then the first truck roared by. ROARED by! I was perplexed. It had two gigantic boulders on its bed and I realized that these trucks were bringing in materials to fix the road. Highway 1 has many sections without a shoulder. A lot of those sections are in blind turns and around blind drops in the road. My mind came back on. That incessant voice that just keeps sticking its finger in the wound. This was too dangerous!
Then it got foggy and cold, and windy. Headwind. Low visibility. Blind turns. No shoulder. I committed to another 20 minutes to see if it’d get better. Then I saw another cyclist on the other side of the road taking a picture and I felt a little jolt of, hey, I’m not the only person doing this.
15 minutes later, I spotted a bright yellow something about a quarter of a mile ahead of me and realized it was yet another cyclist. Quickly, I caught up to him and said hi. We chatted for a second, and I asked if he had done this before. He confirmed and told me that it was going to get better just a little up the road. He was going about the same route I was and I realized that I was ahead of him in every aspect except for the mental game. Everything changed that moment. Here was this person just having a good time by himself, just like me. All my worries were in my head; they were real dangers but I wasn’t going to die on this ride. My mood changed, my body relaxed and I started taking it in the way I was supposed to.
The fog cleared, and while I was dodging the trucks, I also recognized how little other traffic there was. Turns out I was right, at least on car traffic…
Later, I learned from a flagger that the trucks actually radio each other about bikes. He assured me that they made sure we were safe. This resulted in me throwing out chakas to every truck going by.
I had an amazing ride and experience that day. And I almost let my mind talk me out of it.
I thought about it while riding back to my car, which I left at the Motel 6 in San Simeon. What almost got the better of me was caused by idle time. And it bugged me because I believe idle time is very important. That is usually when ideas are allowed to surface, creativity is let loose, and breakthroughs can happen. Leading up to a solo-adventure, idle time can turn into a vicious vehicle for self-doubt and negativity. Beware…
This really stood out for me. I’ve had these very same thoughts on solo journeys into the mountains. Time and experience have calmed them but there’s always a voice leading up to departure that inevitably quiets once I’m in it. Wonderful read!