We all reminisce now and again, sometimes of when life was just that little bit better, just that little bit less complicated, just that little bit unknown.
A year ago Pauline and I had just started our great adventure cycling across the United States of America, starting out from Boston, down to Plymouth for our official start point and all the way to Seattle.
I still can't believe we did it. Most of all though I wish I was right back there, at the start, doing it all again.
At this point last year we had just said goodbye to my friend David and his family. We had spent a great few days with them after a grueling 70-mile first day out from Plymouth. On our last night at their house we noticed some strange white flecks on the carpet near my pile of kit. We couldn't figure out what it was at first, until a little later when we were going through our food supplies for the days ahead. We noticed that the sachets of milk powder we had bought were nowhere to be seen. It turned out that David's Golden Retriever, Dougal, had devoured them, foil wrapper and all. Apparently the packets reappeared a few days later on the lawn!
This day, the 23 May, felt like the real first day. The next familiar face we would encounter was over 1000 miles away in Warren, Detroit, Pauline's uncle David. It was a very wet start to this section of our journey, as we pushed west heading for Troy, just north of Albany in New York State, which would see us join the Erie Canal trail that would take us all the way to Niagara Falls.
I remember, as we pedaled along that day through the persistent rain, I was thinking of the daunting task ahead. Almost 4,000 miles. But I was also excited. I was with my great friend Pauline, fulfilling a life's ambition, with no responsibilities save for finding food and a safe place to camp each day. We were off to discover America. We were setting out on a great life adventure and the unknown lay ahead.
Here's to life's adventures.