Panic Plus Angst Equals Pangst

NOTE: I originally wrote this post in 2015 when Rick began his first super-long cycling trip into Canada. Since then, he's done this route many times -- and beyond, as far as Quebec. This summer he plans to go to Nova Scotia, then down through Vermont and into Massachusetts. 

It may be routine -- but I still have "pangst."

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I am not by nature a worrier. I'm a blue-sky kind of girl who tends to take my cues from Bobby McFerrin. Don't worry. Be happy.

I have faith in my world and yes, things happen. But there are things you can do something about and things you can't. I try my best not to let those things that can't rent space in my head.

Of course, there will always be something that does. The illness of a friend or family member that one can't change or "fix." Or for that matter, your own health. A financial issue that seems overwhelming. Rebuilding a life or a home after a disaster. But these are big worries.

I'm worrying for a few weeks. Why? Because as I've mentioned before, my fabulous biker boy Rick is off on a biking and camping trip, riding from Lansing through part of Canada. This is his route, if you care to take a look, for the scale if nothing else. It will cover over 700 miles and last about two weeks. He also has a very clunky bike-geek blog-like thing and if you're into it, you can follow him HERE. The updated table of contents is at the bottom of the page.

Did I mention he was doing this solo? Did I mention that much of this area has no internet availability? No cell phone signal? No wifi connection? Did I mention that he is totally geeked up about this and has no fear, no worries? Did I mention that I am scared to death?

Now, Rick has been doing this since he was a kid. When he was 16, he and his brother rode from Toledo to -- where? For some reason I'm thinking Columbus, though Rick and Tim would probably correct me.

He's done long day/weekend trips, including one just a week or so ago, taking three days to come down Michigan's beautiful eastern Lake Huron coast. And yes, he was alone on that one. But not far, really. Not in the wilderness.

He will be seeing some of the most beautiful country in North America (so I am told by those who have actually been in parts that he will come through). Just him and his little tiny tent, two wheels held together by a few pieces of metal. He vows to be as determined as the postal service, through wind and rain and bears and ticks and lack of showers and whatever else, nothing will stop him from his appointed rounds.

I will pick him up in Toronto after he spends a day or two with clients (he's doing that elsewhere on the route. Other people would be able to write off the mileage on their car and their meals. I don't know the IRS rate for pedaling. Boxed mac and cheese, Clif bars and coffee probably won't make much of a dent in the deductible meals category). And then in two weeks time, I'll haul his sorry little suntanned bones home in the car so he can get ready for his 400 mile DALMAC ride from Lansing to Mackinac over the Labor Day holiday.

And while he's gone? I will make art. I will swim in the lake. I will spend time with friends. I will go to the Great Lakes Folk Festival. I will make pesto and water my garden and head to Canada where I will spend my birthday with my friend Suzanne on the way to getting Rick.

But I bet I won't be sleeping all that well. Just a hunch.

Sharing with:  Rain's Art and Dinner Date