For the first time in ages we awoke without a big rush and so we dilly dallied, not really sure what to do with ourselves. We headed into town and, because it was too early to check into the hostel that Ziven’s dad had reserved for us, we went to the opposite end of town to Starbucks. Some older people asked what we were up to and we basked in their awe that we had biked the entire way from Mexico. We chomped on our breakfast sandwiches as we soaked up coffee and wifi before a woman approached. She was holding a small baby and said that the baristas had gotten our order wrong and would we like her coffee. She handed us a yummy free treat and we thanked her, feeling like the universe was smiling down on us, especially when I checked the sticker on the cup and saw that the woman’s name was the same as my middle name, spelling and all. We then biked to the bike store where we were separated from our bikes for the first time in a while. We gathered all of our necessary items and were able to fit them into Ziven’s 10L backpack, leaving the rest to be packed into the bike boxes with our bikes. Feeling like new parents leaving our babies behind at daycare, we felt a bit disjointed walking the streets without having to maneuver a bike or plan where to put it when we went into a grocery store. We stopped at a cafe and got some food before planning the day’s activity and setting off for the store. I secured snacks while Ziven acquired boba from a shop across the street and we then zipped into the visitor center where the employees gave horrible advice on how to buy a bus ticket. After deciphering their garbled instructions, we purchased a two way ticket on the Lake Annette loop, aiming to have a picnic on the shore of a lake. After waiting in the shade for a while for the bus, we happily set back and let it muscle through traffic until we arrived at the lake. Finding a spot on the shore and eating our snacks, we basked in the sun before heading out for a swim. Lacking swim attire, we swam in our shorts as people on stand up paddleboards and small boats zoomed around. The water was cold but very refreshing to our aching muscles and I paddled around happily for a while. Debating as to whether we should take an earlier or later bus, a burst of wind chilled our wet bodies and we rushed to get dressed again and headed for the bus. Once deposited back in town, we checked in on our bikes, paid the hefty packing fee, and dragged the heavy and awkward boxes a block or so to our hostel. We checked in and the concierge helpfully found us a place to put our large boxes, rearranging a table in the hallway to make room. After going into our room and putting some things on our beds, we enjoyed the air conditioning and had some downtime before we got too cold and headed outside to warm up. The evening wore on and we eventually settled on Subway for dinner, leaning towards comfort food instead of one of the fancy restaurants lining the road. We ate outside at the scenic picnic tables and I happily ate my meatball sandwich. Seeking desert, we stopped by Timmy Horton’s on the way back to the hostel and grabbed some treats. We ate them at another picnic table and eventually it was late enough to consider sleep. Heading back into the hostel, we found the other beds in the room now claimed and we closed our curtains, Ziven and I sending each other funny videos from across the room before drifting off to sleep.

The knowledge that we were not biking to another location, facing another obstacle, or meeting more bikers was very strange and it is hard for me to describe now. The night before had been all about relief and our glee at having achieved something great, but the next day was tinged with nostalgia and a bit of yearning for more. The words of Andy Bernard from The Office come to mind: “I wish there was a way to know you're in the good old days before you've actually left them.” The last week or so had been a whirlwind of pushing ourselves to the limit in order to finish fast and prove something to no one. We were finished, soooo what now? All the pain and sweat and many many tears were immediately romanticized and it is really only in typing up this account of our trip that I was able to really digest it all. The process of recounting this adventure to you took months not really because the writing itself took that long but because it was almost traumatic to relive each day in as much detail as I remember, to put my trials and tribulations into words, and to try to make light of what sometimes was not funny at all. Our next adventure is not yet planned, though many aspects of my life can still be considered an adventure - being a student, trying to figure out what to do with my life, deciding where to live and what to do with myself, and how to make time for things I love, like gravel biking.

by Ziven:

We had finished the trip of a lifetime! What next? I woke up feeling a bit empty, burned out, deeply tired, but also thankful for everything about my existence. After sleeping in, we biked to the Starbucks at the North end of town where we bragged to some elderly folks about our expedition before sitting on our phones for 30 minutes while we ate and ate and ate. Next, we biked to the bike shop by our hostel where we had them pack our bikes and bikepacking gear in boxes for our upcoming flight home. Without much to do, we checked into the hostel before walking around town, making sure to limp so people knew we had just done the Great Divide. After stumbling into a cafe and eating lunch, we realized we needed another adventure before our long trip back to California. All I wanted was to sit by the ocean and lay in the sand, so we settled for an alpine lake. After grabbing some more food in town, we took the bus to Lake Annette where we swam and frolicked, enjoying the freedom to not bike.

Tired and hungry, we left the lake to return to town. Once back in Jasper proper, I started to feel a bit empty. “What next” became the only thought in my mind. Not only, what next for the upcoming week, but what next for the rest of my life. I had graduated college, already using a Masters Degree to push off “real life” for an extra year. So what next? While I had a great resume, I didn’t have a job lined up. I would be returning to live with my parents and figure out my life. To an optimist, the world was my oyster, but I just felt disgusted by sea food. I could feel a sadness coming on, that was exacerbated by the arduous return trip home. In my mind, the hard part was the 3,005 miles we had just ridden. I felt we deserved to be instantly transported home and so the whole return process annoyed and depressed me. I won’t bore you with the return details here (you can check them out under “To and From”). I knew I would climb out of my funk soon enough, but the extreme euphoria I hoped would appear after the trip did not arrive.