Well, we did it. After 77 days on the road, we crossed into Tijuana Mexico. We flew back to Utah on August 10th, and I went to my Salt Lake City apartment and Mark and our Dad went to their home in Price.
It was truely an amazing journey, and I'm so glad that I got to do it with my brother and my dad. It is so surreal. I look back through the photos we have taken, and I just can't believe it. Now and again, I stumble upon a photo that stirs my memory and it is strange... It brings back lots of feelings of excitement, fear, anxiety. I almost have Post Traumatic Stress Dissorder kind of flashbacks. I become distraught, and panicky, and want to cry sometimes, because I am suddenly plunged back into that part of the trip. Don't get me wrong; it wasn't anything CLOSE to a bad experience. I did the trip to experience those feelings. It was so exhilerating. It made me feel so alive. It is amazing that my 15 year old brother did the trip with me.
And suddenly, I'm not on a bike anymore. I have a door that I lock at night, and I sleep in the same place. It is like I closed a book that I just read, and nothing more. There isn't anything gained on the exterior that people can see and exclaim, "Hey! You look like you just rode your bicycle from Anchorage Alaska to Mexico!" Most people can't even fathom it. I may as well have accidentaly slipped into an altranate universe and found my way back. It is almost... frustrating. All I have left from the trip are photos, video, journals, and my fragile memories. It is a part of me that I find very hard to express to others who have not shared the experience.