It’s easy to share the end result of accomplishments one is proud of, but oftentimes the journey is riddled with apprehension and doubt. So if I am to be honest, my transition into Mexico was rocky. There were tears (even before the bird shit on my face).
Maybe it was the nerves from all the horrible stories people told. As if I wasn’t nervous enough, a Mexican stopped us in the border crossing area to tell us how he was hit by a car while riding his bike. Or maybe it was the newness of everything, our vulnerability feeling very real as we entered a new country. Maybe it was because the riding was so much harder than what we had been used to for the past two months. Or maybe I was a little homesick. The visit from Scott’s parents a reminder that we haven’t seen most of our friends or family for six months.
Whatever the reason, the first few days in Mexico were rough for me. I couldn’t relax and had a pestering feeling that I didn’t want to be here. I don’t know where I wanted to be, just not on a bike in a desert in Mexico. It was distracting from the experience. You can’t appreciate the good and beauty of a place if you close yourself off to it. At the time, I was afraid this feeling would never go away.
But it did. Bit by bit. And the last couple of days I’ve felt a peaceful contentment settle in, like things are back to normal. I just needed a little time to acclimate. It’s not you, Mexico, it’s me. I am at home again on the road. Ride on.