Hey lovely people.
You know what’s awesome?
Tunnels. Bike path tunnels, especially.
Yes, I shout “ECHO” every time I pass through.
Yes, I am almost 23 years old.
Glorious. There’s a moment where my voice becomes so distorted and magnified and wave-like that I can’t even recognize the sound. I love that blurring.
When people ask where I’m headed, my default answer is: “north.” I’m hoping to find a boat in Cairns or Darwin to take me to Indonesia. From there I’ll travel as overland as possible back to North America. Somehow.
Some places stick to the inside of my ribs, though. Good places.
Brisbane. Brisbane was full of movement.
There’s lots more road ahead of me, but I can say without a doubt that Brisbane’s cycle ways are the best I have experienced.
The total story count is in the 370s now. Numbers aren’t the most important part of the journey, but I am sticking to my goal of 1001 recorded stories about water and/or climate change. Every day is a step closer.
I didn’t record it, but yesterday at a reggae event a woman told me a story about waves. “I’m going to sound like a hippie when I say this,” she exhaled, “but for me, surfing isn’t about riding the wave. You’re not conquering a wave, you’re traveling with it. Think about the journey that wave took. It started as a little ripple, a breath of wind in the middle of the ocean. And what an honor to accompany it to shore.”
All journeys begin and end, yes. And all journeys are ongoing.
I tried to channel that story while I rode a shortboard for the first time in the surf on the Sunshine Coast. It was, shall we say, a work in progress? I think I’ll stick to longboards for the time being.
I loved taking an afternoon to visit the Australia Zoo, home of Steve Irwin. What a legend. After hugging a koala and feeding the kangaroos and admiring the giant tortoises, I went home and devoured Terri Irwin’s book in one sitting & then had a dream that I wrote a book of my own.
Crikey. Here’s to words on cardboard signs and the places they lead.
One bike, one year, and beyond.