Today we rode across our last stretch of Florida and into the quaint seaside town of St Augustine. As we rode up to the beach we were greeted by a small but raucous group of friends and family. It was nice to have some folks to celebrate with and create a party atmosphere. There were homemade cookies, champagne and a gajilion photos. There were photos of us arriving, photos of us on the beach and photos of us in strange positions (I kid you not!). Is this the end?
It feels strange to be "finished". It doesn't so much feel like the trip was an event with a start and finish, so much as a momentary change of lifestyle. It was the journey itself that was the point of the trip, not distance or destination - the daily cycle of making and breaking camp and the slow passage through the landscape. At the pace of cycling you can see the details: a caterpillar on the road, an old man smoking a cigarette on his porch, the movement of clouds. These are the things I will miss.
Riders, friends and family went out for dinner at the A1A Ale Works. There were some short speeches to give the event an air of significance. Afterwards we found a place for desert and coffee and lingered in the courtyard exchanging memories from the trip. Then upstairs where a band was playing we drank beers at a long table and tried to avoid going thinking about tomorrow.
Last blog post tomorrow.
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