Happy Endings.

It's my birthday.

I'm 56.

I woke up next to Bonnie today, at the beach, sharing an amazing rental with some of my very closest friends (family, really) in the world.

Seriously: this place is ridiculous. Kudos to Mike and Noelle, who found it.

The very first constructive thing I did was go into the town of Rehoboth with Bonnie, and ride to the end of Rehoboth Avenue, where this whole shebang began, one month and 4 days ago, and take a "end of the road" selfie, and a matching picture to the one with which we began the adventure.

I love symmetry. Right back where we started, just about 1 month and four days ago. Same weather, even. Only the visor has changed.

Photo credit to Bonnie, who also took the original starting photo.

(Update: this is going to be published on Monday, because technical difficulties have followed me home from the West.)

Then we went and got some amazing pastries and headed home to the "compound" which, as far as we can tell, leaves Shangri-La in the dust.

This is our view. Seriously.

I'm done. The Pirsig portion, the Return Portion, the Iron Butt Portion, the other portions ("and here, right above your spleen, is your liver...") All the Portions.

1 month, 4 days.
7,546.8 miles.
4 nights camping.
8 nights as a couch guest
1 night riding
22 nights in motels of some stripe.
Somehow, I only got wet, at all, 5 times.
I crossed state borders 28 times, and saw (for me) 12 new states. All "big" ones. Wow.
Countless (literally, although I will probably try to figure it out at some point) meals, restaurants, rest stops, coffee shops, diners, etc.)
1 set of tires. (dayum. The Michelin Pilot Road 4 is THE single best all around tire I have ever ridden. It rocks)
3 minor repairs. 2 of which I managed myself.
1 sportbike, which I now feel confident I know better than any other bike I have ever owned, including bikes I have owned much longer.

Of all the things I underestimated, the foremost is probably how long it will take to unpack this experience. I am, I think, reasonably aware of just how lucky I am to have been afforded the opportunity, and, if you are reading this, please know that my gratitude is overflowing for your part in making it happen. I'm really pleased that we have contributed over 5k USD to Tricia's Fund, but equally aware that I have benefited from your grace, and I hope that my musings, pictures, and soon, I swear, video, will be some small token in thanks.

I am especially indebted to those of you who were part of my hospitality network across the country - the benefit of a warm place to make my bed, with friendly faces, more than made up, many times over, for the ignominies of regular Motel 6 failings and the occasional "even worse" hostelry. Extra props to Eric Suess, who left his home and family to journey to SLC just to hang out - long overdue! and to Chris and Elspeth who took me in both coming and going. Josh and Mel - I couldn't have made it without you as a turning point, and Bonnie and I are both grateful for your friendship and hospitality in your new, awesome home. Carol and Don, I hope we have a chance to spend more quality time together, but I loved seeing you both. Jo Ann - well, we will find more time soon. You are awesome. And to my household at HH, PW47 (story still to come, see below) thanks for taking me in at a moment's notice, and for reminding me that awesome summer experiences are nothing new for this old man, and that I have lots of Gypsy Vagabond Savage-ry™ to look forward to in future summers. (On that note, Bonnie has mentioned wanting to ride up to Maine, if I can acquire a suitably passenger friendly cycle in the near future... but I think she's probably just trying to get my mind off whether I should try and do this all again next summer...)

So, the riding's over, but the writing and the e-mails will prolly continue for some time.

Still to come:

Iron Butt: Salt Lake City to Des Moines in 24 Hrs., or: "How stupid, exactly, can the desert air make you?"

Smells Like...? or, "WTF is in mah nose...?!"

The Playlist, or "Oh, so THAT's what that song means..."

The Minstrel Boy to the War has gone... (well, for a day and a half)

And "There and Back Again" or "Hello Pollen My Old Friend..."

As the last title expresses, I am back on the East Coast, and have, apparently, developed an allergy to the East. I think the West cleaned out my sinuses in a way they had not been before, including whatever resistance I had built up to pollen and mold (I used to have very bad allergies and now they are back in spades. The moment I got into Southern Maryland - go figure. But we hope that modern pharmacology and the sea will clear them out sufficiently.

Along with a return to the East, comes a return to my curmudgeonly ways. Love you all. More soon.