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“There is a voice that doesn’t use words. Listen.”
~Â Rumi
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[/imageframe][separator style_type=”shadow” top_margin=”20″ bottom_margin=”20″ sep_color=”#71b5dd” icon=”” width=”” class=”” id=””][fusion_text]We’re up at 4:30 the next morning, headed up toward Flagstaff. There are a few miles of very narrow road indeed, and I can see why Dale was concerned. Reaching the top, I point out places where we can stop so Dale can drop me off, but he’s clearly intent on taking me further.
The bulk of this drive is good road through pretty country on a beautiful morning, road I’d rather be riding my bike on. Not to mention the little tiny voice in my mind telling me this is a bicycle trip, not a car trip. But I realize that this ride is a demonstration of affection by Dale. He’s worried about me riding on the narrow and steep portion of road, and he wants to give me something. This ride is that something. A couple times yesterday, I’d told Dale how much I appreciated the opportunities he gave me, and shared with him some regrets I had from those old days. During those conversations, Dale hadn’t replied with any similar sentiments, but I could see thoughts and sentiments working behind his eyes.
This ride this morning is his way of expressing those appreciations and those sentiments. When this understanding strikes me, I sit back and tell him just how much I’m enjoying the ride.
And I smile.
Reaching the outskirts of Flagstaff, Dale pulls into an empty parking lot. I unload my bike, and strap my bag on the back. We exchange pleasantries, a long and strong handshake, and a slap on the back. Then Dale drives off. I watch as he pulls out of the parking lot, and heads south toward Sedona. Our short time together has been a delight; I hope to be able to see him again soon.
But fate has something else in mind, and Dale’s life will come to an end in a few short weeks at the hands of a nasty but hidden infection that’s working in his body even as we’ve had this wonderful time together.
Every handshake we have with a good friend could be the last. Every time we watch as they drive off could be our last glimpse. Each time we break bread with someone we love might be the last chance we get to do so.
My final chance to break bread with Dale was the finest, most insightful, and most enjoyable dinner I ever had with him. Our final handshake was strong and carried great affection. It came at the end of a relaxing early morning car ride that was Dale’s way of saying thanks. I was smiling as I watched him drive away.
Rest in peace my friend, and thanks again for the ride![/fusion_text][/three_fourth][fullwidth backgroundcolor=”” backgroundimage=”” backgroundrepeat=”no-repeat” backgroundposition=”left top” backgroundattachment=”scroll” video_webm=”” video_mp4=”” video_ogv=”” video_preview_image=”” overlay_color=”” overlay_opacity=”0.5″ video_mute=”yes” video_loop=”yes” fade=”no” bordersize=”0px” bordercolor=”” borderstyle=”” paddingtop=”20px” paddingbottom=”20px” paddingleft=”0px” paddingright=”0px” menu_anchor=”” equal_height_columns=”no” hundred_percent=”no” class=”” id=””][one_fourth last=”no” spacing=”yes” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” background_position=”left top” border_size=”0px” border_color=”” border_style=”” padding=”” class=”” id=””][imageframe lightbox=”no” style_type=”dropshadow” bordercolor=”” bordersize=”0px” borderradius=”0″ stylecolor=”” align=”none” link=”http://www.amazon.com/Pilgrim-Wheels-Reflections-Cyclist-Crossing/dp/0982639120/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1425163739&sr=1-1″ linktarget=”_blank” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””] 
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Pilgrim Wheels Excerpts
This post is part of a series of posts, representing excerpts from Pilgrim Wheels, a story of a cycling journey across America. Pilgrim Wheels was released on March 1, 2015. Before it’s release date, it had already won the following awards:
- Great Southwest Book Festival – 2nd Place – General Non-Fiction
- LA Book Festival – Honorable Mention – General Non-Fiction
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