That's My Team

There has been a commonality that I've noticed in these past 30 days. Whenever I've met friendly people in small towns or talked to our hosts-- or even called my friends back home-- there's one word that has been universally used to describe our teams experience: brave. At first I shrugged it off. "I guess that's one way to look at our trip," I thought. To me, my ride has seemed like nothing more than a fun adventure and physical test; I like to exercise and teach, what more can I say? I'm flattered by the compliment, by being called "brave," but I've never viewed it in such a flattering lens.

But then I thought again. I tried to piece together what choosing to bike across American revealed about character. The trip has been incredibly rewarding: the feeling of joy I get when interacting with students or the sense of satisfaction I get when summiting a hill is unparalleled. But aside from the outcome of our actions, I wanted to look more into the cause of them. What made our team, our team? 

The answers were obvious when I thought about my biker gang.

To start, they are, indeed, brave.

I drove on the first day of the Rocky's. While I was going up the mountain, I saw my team pushing themselves up one of those hills that looks like it has no end and is taller than the eye can see. It takes a lot to be able to summit a hill like that. I admired their physical strength-- the strain they were putting their bodies through and the sheer force of their will to overcome. But even more, I admired their mental strength. Sometimes the most daunting part of the hill isn't even when you're going up- it's the punch-in-the-gut intimidation of when you first see the hill in front of you, when you're at the bottom looking up. Seeing my team overcome those hills-- the physical and mental battles that came with it-- made me incredibly proud. I desperately wanted to scream, in the wise words of Brian Ly, "That's my team!" I wanted all the cars passing by to know they were my biker buddies.

They're also strong.

That rocky mountain hill was only a fraction of the ride for the day. In reality, the big hill took up about 16 miles in a 85 mile long day. The ride lasted for five or six more hours. Imagine the strength you muster up for those mountains; now imagine maintaining that same strength for eight or nine hours a day. During the Appalachian Mountains, my team pushed themselves through a 97 mile, 9000 ft. elevation day; then they proceeded to an equally difficult ride the next day, and day after that. My team puts themselves through physical stress for as long as some adult's work days. I don't know any other word to describe people who would put themselves through that for 10 weeks, except the word strength.

They're caring.

It's also the little things that my team does that truly reveals their caring moral character. When Bradley wakes up earlier than everyone else to make breakfast, and then proceeds to help clean up and pack the car, I think of the word selfless. When Alex stays behind me and encourages me for the entire hill in the Sierra Nevada's, even though he could undoubtedly go faster, I think of the word considerate. When Brian buys insanely good, non-GMO, gluten-free, vegan, fat free food and shares it with the entire team-- repeatedly asking if we want more-- I think of the work giving. When Vivian pays attention to the little things we do-- when she compliments me after I play piano or genuinely asks how each of us are doing-- I think of the work selfless. When Olivia takes time to prepare amazing meals for us and buys individually chosen items from the store for each of us (I particularly appreciate the strawberry banana smoothes), I think of the word loving. When Alyssa buys specifically vegan food so that everyone can eat it and lets people enjoy her grapefruits and oranges, I think of the word giving. 

They're free-spirited.

There's nothing like a classic Brian dance to "What does the Fox say?" in the morning to plaster a smile on my face for the rest of the day-- or the accusatory yet playful banter that comes with playing "Secret Hitler." On our rainy, 10 PM ride in Salt Lake City, in which we took several wrong turns, it is only my team's upbeat and hilarious nature that got me through that objectively hard ride; we even stopped to take pictures with road signs that indicated were going the wrong way. In reality, there are countless memories I have of laughing incredibly hard with my team, most of which I don't remember why-- there's too many to keep track of.

My team is undoubtedly brave; they have show that time and time again. But in actuality, they are so much more than that.

-Rachel