The sun hung high in the deep blue sky as a slight ocean breeze ticked my face. To my left and right were oceans of turquoise water as far as the eye could see. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as I pedaled across the final bridge heading into Key West.

My chain squeaked and sputtered as if to tell me that it had had enough. “Stop Ryan! Give me a break!” I promised to give my bike and body a rest in three short miles, once we reached the end of pavement on highway 1.

As we neared our goal, I cold see the bulky monument marking the southernmost point in the continental USA. I felt like a kid racing into a toy store, my excitement overpowering my tired legs. I stood tall on the pedals and pushed it like the racers screaming down the Champs de Eleyes. We made it!

We snapped a few photos on the beach looking toward Cuba and suddenly I felt a wave of emotions. I had been dreaming of this moment for months, but now that I was here, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Should I scream out with joy? Cry? Do a goofy victory dance? I did what my body wanted me to do, I plopped myself on the beach and gave my legs a much needed break. I looked out at the sea, listening to the gentle waves crashing on the powdery sand. In this moment of clarity, I began to think about all the amazing people we met along the way who made this trip unforgettable.

Our goal was to experience life at 15mph and this is exactly what we did. The slow speed allowed us to connect with people from every background. Rich, poor, farmers, southerners, northerners, beach bums, hippies, truck drivers, single moms, Baptists, Atheists, foreign, old and young. We met them all, and each interaction has a special place in my heart.

We set out most mornings not knowing where we would end up by days end nor whom we meet along the way. It was always a surprise and this is what made the trip exciting.
I never worried too much about how things would play out, I always had faith that around every corner, someone would show up and save the day.

Most times, we didn’t need to search for long, kindhearted people always seemed to come to us. This past week I met Bonnie, and after two minutes of knowing her, she was on the phone to a friend who had extra room for us to stay. In her sweet voice she said to me, “You look like you are my daughters age, and I would want someone to help her out is she were in this situation.” Hooray for moms, I love you!

I am incredibly thankful for all the people who graced our trip with their presence. Without the personal connections we made; it would have just been a simple bike ride. Pedal pedal, sleep, pedal pedal eat. The bike was just a tool that allowed us to discover the world at a slower pace.

When I look back on this trip and think of my favorites moments, they won’t involve my bicycle. The physical challenge was exciting, but it’s my new friends I met along the way whom I’ll remember most. I owe so much to these people for taking us in, feeding us, helping us when we got lost and giving us inspiration to continue riding.

The East Coast gets a bad wrap for unfriendly folks but we seemed to have found the best of the bunch. Not once did we meet an unfriendly face.

I was told many times by all sorts of people that what we were doing was an inspiration to them and that we were living our dreams. It’s true, this trip was a dream and I’m overjoyed that so many different people played a role in making my dream pass all expectations.

I will cherish all the special moments, from the countless smiles and waves we got from the road, to sitting in Connor’s rain soaked barn as he described in detail all of the ways I could be killed by a spider. It’ll take time for it all to sink in and as my horrific tan lines soon fade away, the memories will stick for a lifetime.