Today is my dad’s 60th birthday. Happy birthday, Dad!
2009 is also the 10th anniversary of the year my dad rode his bicycle alone across the US. He dipped one wheel in the Pacific Ocean at the beginning of the summer, and dipped in the Atlantic at the end of it. Isn’t that incredible? It was an infinitely more arduous journey than the pansy gas-powered road trip I am taking.
You can read all about his journey on the website he kept while he was on the road: route99.org. I recommend clicking on “journal archives.”
My route has overlapped with his in just a few spots, including San Francisco, Green River, UT, and Glenwood Springs, CO. The real overlap is in personality: the kind that thinks it’s a really good idea to take off on a long American trip by oneself. For me, that goes back to my dad’s trip in 1999, and back farther to long road trips our family took out west during summer vacation, pulling over for every historical marker. This is the point where I want to start gushing and bragging and musing, but I’ll keep it short and sweet and just say that I wouldn’t be on this trip if it weren’t for him. I love you, Dad.