Greetings from Seattle, Washington. I haven't posted a journal entry in awhile. In fact, this is my second one. They are really really rare. They are so "once in a blue moon" that you should be honored that I have decided to post a second one. Just kidding.

I have a short story to tell, a segue into my second entry. Sit back, relax, and enjoy.

Stewart, Hogan, and I were riding at the front of the pack on the way to Lincoln City. As is normal procedure for the front group, we were riding around without any idea as to the location of our destination, just hoping to stumble on Oceanfront Beach Rentals, beachfront housing in Lincoln City. Well, I am exaggerating. We knew that the house was on Harbor Drive and assumed that Harbor Drive intersected Highway 101, the highway on which we were riding. After Hogan left Stewart and I to make a pit stop at the library, Stewart and I rode on unable to locate Harbor Drive. We were a tad bit frustrated to say the least. We had ridden 85 miles that day; we were tired, hungry, thirsty, and unable to find the place that could solve our problems. We were angry at ourselves, each other, the team for not giving us adequate directions, and pretty much everyone else. After riding to the town after Lincoln City (we were very lost), we stopped off at a post office to ask for directions. The postal clerk kindly suggested that we ask for directions at the city's chamber of commerce, thereby not directly helping us in any way. At that moment, an elderly lady walked into the post office. She was dressed in hospital scrubs, had lost all of her hair, had a towel wrapped around her head, and looked rather pale. She looked at our "Texas 4000 for cancer" jerseys; and without any conversation between us, she said with tears in her eyes "Thank you for riding." After Stewart and I left the post office, I pondered the event and discussed it with Stewart.

Whether the lady herself had actually been affected by cancer has little significance in the story. Before this ride, I feel like I was very self-centered. I was only concerned with myself: what I needed, how I was feeling, how something affected me, etc. The event at the post office, along with the whole ride, has taught me to look outside of myself: to look at what other people need, how other people are feeling, and how things affect other people, etc. I believe that part of the maturation process involves looking outside of oneself and realizing the needs, feelings, and problems others are dealing with.

The spirit is truly a beautiful thing. I am not speaking of the individual spirit (although it is beautiful as well). I am speaking of the collective spirit, the force which surges through all living creatures. The force which consists of their interactions and their effects on each other. This trip has presented several opportunities to observe different dynamics of this spirit in different towns and communities. It has been very interesting and meaniningful to me. This trip has taught me to grow outside of myself, a process which I hope continues throughout the future. Thanks for reading and take care.

Kartik