We rode into the monument at 14:38 yesterday. The sky was a bit downcast. My legs were a bit sore. There were a few milling tourists tapping on the (weirdly) two-toned stone of the obelisk a bit too much.
We rode into the monument at 14:38 yesterday. Julia and Katherine were there with the sweetest celebrations and pastries (!). I felt myself smiling the widest and for the longest in a while. The sweatiest and happiest Spokes stood looking down towards the Reflecting Pool, and we were a true monument to behold.
spokes at the monument, photo courtesy of Julia
I have been known to be cynical about things, excelling more in spite and sarcasm than sincerity and sappiness. So to those who are expecting the usual cynic, I do apologize for this post – it will indeed be (mostly) sincere and (somewhat) sappy.
I am quite good at saying goodbyes. I didn’t cry when I left Shanghai for the U.S in middle school; I stayed for one picture before rushing off to leave high school behind – leaving comes easier to me than embarking on things. I wish to say that it is because I know that endings do not mean the end of things, but rather a second to pause, take a breath and a step away from things, and perhaps some of it is. Yet it seems more likely that it’s because I’ve never let myself truly feel at home anywhere other than with family. I have never loved a community too deeply so that it will be difficult to slip away one day into another.
The Spokes have become family. Unexpectedly and quietly, the Spokes have all carved out their respective spaces (not necessarily large, but as notable as a fourth empty seat in Ody) in my heart. The 3600 miles of biking side by side for 73 days have ensured that.
A running joke has been that Spokes is just a mission to babysit me across the country – As the youngest on the team, I have been secretly under supervision and protection by the rest of the Spokes, so that I arrive safely at D.C. Each Spoke has their own superpower of sorts that ensures my security. It’s a pretty lame joke, I have to say…sorry to whichever Spoke came up with it. But there is some truth to it:
Timothy, AKA Chillmothy the Slothy:
Timothy ensures that my intellect and competitive nature remains relatively intact. He will toss out challenges at random points of the day whether halfway up a hill or just as I open my eyes in the morning. Of course, they are all in good-nature, and somehow when he ends his slew of insults with a smile or his special silent chortle, I can only smile and chortle along.
only dry conversation Timothy and I’ve had
Katherine, AKA Katerina
Katherine ensures my overall physical well-being. I have the tendency to touch (mostly unintentionally) really hot surfaces with my bare hands. My fingers and knuckles have sizzled audibly more than once in the kitchen. While I cackle at my stupidity, Katherine supplements the necessary cringing and care that has probably kept my hands still functioning so far.
yarmiest sandwich
Aja, AKA Aisa
Aja is the resident young person of my bodyguard team. We are able to engage in conversation about the happenings of this era, which the millennial-leaning rest of the group often are distant from. They are also my brain-twin of sorts. We somehow always find the same things hysterically amusing or inordinately annoying and will make sure to exchange a cackle or an eye-roll whether right next to each other or across the room.
pretty sunset pretty aja
Joel, AKA Sloel
Joel is the brake of sorts to my furious pedaling. He reminds me to keep my spiraling impatience in check, sometimes at the expense of suffering my unwarranted wrath, I’m sorry, Joel. He somehow continues to believe that there is a non-cynical, non-spiteful Sophia beneath it all and for that I am truly grateful.
Joel and Ody the trusty steed
Parth, AKA Darth Vader with a P, also the Hot Spoke
Parth generally supplies the positive mental attitude (PMA) I am essentially devoid of so that I remain relatively stable and in good spirits. When I am sulking in a corner or pouting on the bike, Parth will invariably spot my discontent and check in on me. I may have (definitely have) lashed out a couple of times, and I am truly sorry. Thank you Parth, I am always appreciative.
still my favorite Parth pic
I have been joking since Nevada that I was ready to go home and sometimes there would be more truth than comedy in that sentiment (like when Mormon crickets are jumping through my spokes, or when it’s the fourth day of another 70 miles in a cross-headwind). Yet now that we have put our helmets and cleats down quite firmly in a corner to be packed or shipped away, I’ve realized that perhaps I am not quite so ready to leave. I have always been good at saying goodbyes, but this one is a little stickier, like the resistance of a pair of magnets (key technology in the Burslem-Wu Butt Cleat), or the effort of passing a spoon through Joel’s stodgy oatmeal.
I don’t like feelings much but since this trip has been full of just that, for the end, I will let myself feel, let myself get pulled into all the sincerity and sappiness. I have let myself love throughout this trip, love the Ohio-Erie bike trail, love the shower in Dinosaur, CO, love the sunset in April’s backyard and the sunrise in Jo and Angelica’s living room, love the liminal spaces that fill up all the in-betweens (especially the Subways). With love comes the burden of loss, and there is so much to lose. This goodbye may be difficult even for someone as good at goodbyes as I, so I won’t say it just yet.
This blog has taken a midnight and a morning to write (in a most wonderful coffee shop @cafeu.dc where Greg the barista entertained me with yummy coffee and beautiful music), so instead of goodbye, I will say goodnight, good morning, and thank you.
Love,
Sophia Wu