Wyoming Wind

I rode my bicycle on the broken road with the wind howling insecurities in my ear. Wyoming unfolded in front of me with each pedal stroke; it showed me its vastness, its emptiness; its challenges. I had been riding my bike across America for over a month, but this wind, with its strong gusts and bitter sting, was breaking me. With miles to go until the next town and a mountain yet to climb, I felt nothing but defeat. Then, as if the wind had sensed my self-doubt, it blew a wicked gust that pushed me off the road.

I yelled until my throat burned, but even I could not hear my own words. The wind took hold of my frustrations and blew them into the emptiness, ignored. The howling persisted and I knew I had only one choice; I had to keep moving forward.

And so I moved. Behind me was nothing but those familiar roads and conquered mountains. But ahead of me, I had a destination to reach. My exhausted legs continued to spin up the mountain until through my teary vision I saw a sign:

Continental Divide ELEV: 7174 ft

My cheeks burned red, my legs ached, and my long hair was tangled into one large knot; but I felt, oh did I feel. I got off my bike and looked out at Wyoming. I acknowledged its strength and spirit, and I respected it. I accepted that adventure will test your limits and push you to the point where you think that perhaps this is greater than me. But in those tiny moments of doubt, there is growth.