On your mark, get set, PEDAL!

Well, it’s not actually a race. In fact it’s quite the opposite of a race. But I do have a competitive side to me, and sometimes I have to remind myself that it’s not about arriving (and arriving first), but rather about enjoying the journey itself and taking time to stop and smell the rosa mosqueta.

The weather leading up to the actual departure date has been amazing. Perfect biking weather. Cool, sunny, and very little wind. Strange for this time of year. Almost inviting me to hurry up and start my trip. But, whoa, hold your horsepower. I’ll leave when I’m ready to leave.

That being said… leaving is not that easy.

The first step is tough, very tough. Sure, I can talk anyone’s ear off about trips, past present and future. I can plan upcoming trips and reminisce about this or that past adventure. I consider myself a fairly experienced, adventurous and independent wander body. But that first step is really really tough.

I said my goodbyes. I ate my last Bariloche asado. I drank down my last Bariloche fernet. I bought the last of my bike accessories. I organized the few material goods that I own. And when I could not postpone my trip any longer...… I left.

Matias walked me to the street, treated me to a personalized photo shoot (photos to come!), kissed me goodbye, and when he saw me hesitating, said, “Go!”

Tears in my eyes, I pried my fingers off of the brakes and glided down Palacios to Gallardo. I wobbled at first getting used to the weight of my overloaded bike, but then got my balance, but never the confidence to take one last look over my shoulder.

That day was a tough day. The sobbing feeling in my chest didn’t die down until I was safely 30km from Bariloche. And even then, my heart didn’t stop begging me to turn around and go back. I felt it aching. I felt it pleading. Its voice was so strong, so powerful, so persuasive. It made my brain second-guess itself. “What am I doing?” It moaned. “What the fuck am I doing? I don’t want to do this. I don't want to leave. I don't want to take this trip.” It took all my strength, mental and physical, to keep my bike’s handlebars pointing towards Villa la Angostura.

I enjoy a good adventure. I love the thrill of throwing myself into the unknown. I feed upon uncertainty and spontaneity. But when it comes down to it, I also get scared. Change is scary. Going about it alone can be terrifying. Leaving friends, family, and lovers behind can make a person feel very alone. It is very very easy to back out.

So with my heart slowly convincing my brain to desire comfort, security, and stability… what made me continue pedaling? What life force kept my eyes staring straight ahead? What energy pulled me away from everything my heart wanted? The soul, perhaps? The core spirit of Alisa? The deep down inner ME that knows how to keep her priorities straight?

I know this is my path. But that doesn’t mean that it will be easy. Change is never easy. But pushing one’s comfort limits is where life begins. This is going to be an amazing journey and one heck of an adventure!

Let me introduce you to my team:

Tioca la Mandioca

Horacio el Batracio

And, yours truly, The Girl With The Purple Shirt

I hope to get better at taking self portraits.