Inventing a Life

I dared not avert my gaze from his forlorn visage lest I deprive myself but one moment of this utter truth. A truth which seldom arises in ordinary life, yet lingers just below the surface of our consciousness. This man, whom I faced in complete assiduity knew not what this moment had become. Nor did I comprehend the gravity of our encounter. By total happenstance he had arrived at this little convenience store, a local cyclist out for a head-clearing ride, to find a fellow biker dodging the rain. Naturally, he approached and engaged me in conversation.

Our discussion began rather predictably- sharing bike stories, explaining how we had each come to be here, briefy expounding, or at least attempting to expound upon the reasons behind our riding- but quickly shifted toward something far more profound. He made a few comments regarding the flaws in the economy and the government and, seeing that I mostly agreed, began to go into further detail about how he had come to hold these beliefs. He had recently been laid off, was running out of money and forced to sell almost everything he owned, and as he put it, had his child stolen from him.

I've met innumerable folks across the country who had been laid off, many who were forced to downgrade their standard of living, and presumably some who had experienced family or custody issues in the process, but this man was different. As he continued, his emotions became ever more palpable. His face and body demonstrated an intense struggle to restrain an overt exposition of emotional anguish. He scarcely reciprocated the eye contact I was so steadfastly delivering, for each time he did, his resolve was visibly weakened.

As I began to notice a quivering in his lips and a well of tears forming in each of his eyes, I realized that this encounter would mean more to us both than either could have known. He attempted, successfully, to abstain from weeping by tightening his cheeks and forming a smirk in the side of his mouth as he explained his situation.

He had lost everything. Spending over eight years in court and an incalculable sum of money fighting to regain custody of his daughter, the process had consumed his life. He had been experiencing depression and suicidal inclinations, but for his daughters sake resolved to go on. It did not make sense to him that people could treat each other with the disdain he had experienced on behalf of the judge and others and it was obvious to me that his faith in people had been jaded beyond the point of recovery.

We were strangers, and it was precisely that relationship which had allowed him to unload such a burden of emotional toil. He was free to be himself, with all of his flaws and all of his weaknesses. He had nothing to prove, no persona to maintain. It was a blank canvas upon which he could paint his true feelings without censor. Knowing that I would be gone in the morning and the two of us would never meet again gave this man license to express his sorrow out loud.

He went into greater detail about the court processs and his necessity to sell the belongings for which he had worked his entire life to acquire. I listened intently and, whenever I could, offered a supportive comment. I knew that this moment would be significant for him as it was an opportunity to un-bottle what was obviously an immense abyss of sadness. I felt it was my human duty to provide the best possible sounding board.

Toward the end of our conversation, he mentioned that the beauty of nature sometimes helps him to put things in perspective. He cited a few examples before concluding that in life, when we need it most, we experience things which help us better understand our troubles. For him, a ride to the top of Lizard Head Pass to absorb the scenery, and for me, a chance to witness a total stranger in his truest and most honest moment.

It's true that we who embark on this type of journey are all running from something. We are also running toward something. It's different for everyone, but the common thread is that we seek a deeper understanding of who we are. Whether it be hiking the Appalachian Trail, rowing a boat across the Atlantic Ocean, scaling Mt. Everest, biking across North America, or even quitting a job to move out to the country for a simpler life, it's all about discovering and shattering limitations. This helps us to realize what life is about. Maybe it takes an entire lifetime of searching, but the journey is one which none who embark can abandon.


People often ask me to share with them the lessons I have learned along the way. To this request, I can only reply that I have yet to extract the true lessons. I have seen and done many things and I have experienced many influential moments. Each will manifest itself in the right context. I have little doubt that my future will present plenty of opportunities to utilize the knowledge I have and will gain, so as I go on, I will look forward with great anticipation.



*As for the day: 108 miles from Ridgway to Dolores. Tons of cold and harsh rain, enough wind, and a few very significant climbs. Lizard Head Pass, Dallas Divide, and a few unnamed mountain passes defined the day.

I got a free 50 miles out of the deal, though. The downhills after each mountain pass were fantastic, and from the peak of LHP all the way to Dolores was downhill or flat the entire way. I made the last 37 miles in an hour and fifty minutes. With the exception of the temperature maxing out at 50 degrees and being soaked all day, it wasn't too bad. It did take a while, but I got off to a late start coming out of the Hot Springs this morning. I didn't go in again, but I chatted with some people and let my tent hang for a bit to dry.






Does anyone else wonder which part is supposed to look like a Lizard Head?

Location:Dolores, CO