My Bicycle Trip Across the United States(Part One)

A few years ago I bicycled across the country. I'm trying to write my story now. It was a long and arduous journey of discovery of self.

I can also post the testimony here, if that is preferred.

Let me know(this is my first ever Reddit post).

Thank you and be well.

https://frankbanjo.substack.com/p/testimony-of-bicycle-trip-across?r=3tyz2v

https://www.youtube.com/@beardedal3761

***edit(I'm going to post it below)

I am blessed to still be here, because there was a time when I believed I would not be.

After I graduated from UC Berkeley, with a degree in philosophy, I packed up my belongings and rode across the country for six months on a bicycle, sleeping beneath the stars each night. My family was very concerned about my safety. Before I left, my brother pressed a bowie knife into my hands for protection, and I left my mom and dad in tears when I rode away. I resolved myself to not be affected by their tears and would not let their fear get in the way of me finding the truth.

I began my journey in San Jose and pedaled north toward Seattle. The first night I camped underneath an isolated tree by the Bay, near the San Francisco International Airport. I felt exposed, naked, and vulnerable. During the night, which was cold and damp, I refused to sleep in my bag. There were condos and businesses nearby, and late-night walkers passing behind me on a paved path. I heard their voices and footsteps, and I was afraid. I sat there paralyzed all night, until I finally gave up and crawled into my sleeping bag just before dawn.

It was morning, and I was drenched, tired, and cold. I packed my things into my saddlebag, then hit the road. Before I left, I had planned to cross the Golden Gate Bridge, taking the coast up to Seattle. Instead, because I was spent, I took the ferry to Vallejo, thinking it would be a shortcut.

After I arrived at the terminal, I was greeted by a stranger. He was a black man. I joined him at his table outside where we discussed philosophy and the meaning of life. I said, "My favorite philosopher is Nietzsche, the man who loved nature and went insane." Curious, the man asked, "What made him go insane?" And I responded, "He saw a horse being beaten in the streets." We sat there silently and pondered the thought.

After awhile, he said, "You must be hungry. I packed an extra sandwich this morning. You take it." I tried to refuse him, but he insisted. It was a turkey, lettuce, and mayonnaise sandwich that had been sitting out in the sun all day. I took a bite out of it and immediately wanted to gag. However, I did not wish to offend or embarrass my friend, so I took a few more bites out of the sandwich, swallowing my pride.

He watched me eat, not knowing that I was struggling, then asked, "What is it that you hope to find?" Gathering myself, I said, "My favorite philosopher is Nietzsche, because he taught me the most important lesson of my life," I paused for dramatic effect. "I learned that we are all stuck here." The truth hit us both like lightning, and a deeper silence followed.

Here was I, a young and ambitious recent college graduate who didn't fully comprehend the weight of those words, sitting across from a man much older in years, a man whose life had taught him things books could not. I wished, that for just one moment, I could stand inside his shoes and be him.

Then he asked, "What is it that you want?"

"I want to go to Washington D.C. to stick it to those bureaucrats!"

He chuckled, not unkindly, and asked, "Is that all? Of all the things a person could ask for, you want to enter politics?"

"I've read a lot of Noam Chomsky. In fact, I have one of his books inside my saddlebag. I haven't read it yet, but I want you to have it." I pulled out Profit Over People and handed it to him, saying, "This man has all the answers."

He took the book in his hands and turned it over slowly, measuring its weight. "This is a heavy book to be carrying on a bike," he said.

I smiled and said, "If you could only see what else I'm packing."

The shadow of the man, whom I have not forgotten, reached out his hand, and I took it. I gave him my farewell, thanked him for his gift, and began my trek toward the Emerald City.