“I’m sorry, you’re biking where?” she said.
“To the Arctic,” I replied.
She looked at me like she didn’t know whether to laugh or punch me in the shoulder. A moment passed. “You’re crazy.”
It’s not an uncommon direction for the conversation to go. At this point I’ve heard a dozen jokes about gas-powered bicycles, secret plane tickets and my hard bike saddle. I’ve had people respond with laughter and cautionary tales and dumbfounded silence, and I don’t begrudge them. 15,000 km runs close to the edge of most people’s imaginations.
Contrast Rick. He looked us up and down, said, “Sounds great guys, when do you leave?” Then started talking about cadence, tire options and weight conversions.
Rick’s Bike Repair is a local bike shop just a short ride from our home base in Kingston. In the months leading up to our departure, it became a constant source of knowledge, support, gear and training. Rick had guidance on every element of long-distance touring that we’d thought of, and plenty we hadn’t. More than a few times Asad and I had a discussion that concluded with a pause and, “We should ask Rick.”
I don’t know much about elite athletes, but one thing I know is that professional athletes have technicians for their gear, their health, their nutrition. That’s because when you’re putting your body on the line for athletic performance, you want an expert backing you.
Well at least, I do.
That’s what it’s been like having Rick in our corner. He’s an experienced cyclist, a master technician and a good friend. I’m sure there’s many bike experts like him, but part of me wonders if he isn’t the only one. This sounds superfluous but I can’t imagine anyone else with his knowledge, technical skill and kindness.
Laughs and punches in shoulders aside, Rick’s my base.