I like biking and I like going places, so logically I thought I would like the two together but I was wrong, dead wrong. The last 48 hours were absolutely torturous. I began a test ride from Virginia Beach to Richmond, VA to see if I would enjoy biking across the country. In reality, it was me beginning an adventure in secret after a highly announced and altered adventure before. It was tough changing my plans so severely from a Bahamas trip to a Tortugas trip, despite each being equally exotic and challenging.

But this one, I’m abandoning it pretty easily because I only told like three people and I’m absolutely dreading the thought of actually following through with it. My time for freedom is precious before I matriculate med school in August and no way in hell am I going to spend it on busy roads getting shouted at by angry country folk.

Last night I made it home at 9pm from a 130 mile stretch from Virginia Beach. My ass hurt, my hands and body were bloody and I was exhausted. I remembered why recently I haven’t road biked as much as I used to. Richmond is an incredible community for cyclists, Blacksburg is even better. But Hampton Roads is about the most hellish place on Earth to ride a bicycle. I was run off the road twice and screamed at countless times. Structurally it is tough because of the bottlenecked roads over waterways. I understand. But the drivers didn’t make it any better.

Many people would be like, “Dude, don’t give up so soon. I believe in you,” and all that jazzy inspirational crap. The fact is, I know I can ride a bike across the country. That is not the question. The question is if I actually want to. And when I heard yesterday about a girl my age being hit and killed in Kentucky while riding cross country to raise money for cancer research, that sealed the answer to that question for me. A giant, big old screw that, I’m going into the woods for a while. Adios world. I’m headed out west to some big mountains.