Finally the morning arrived when it was time to hit the road again and head home from Mom’s in Yarmouth area. The Wharf Rat Rally was pretty much my last “to do”, and it was now September! Initially I’d planned to take the Cat from Yarmouth to Bar Harbour Maine. Then I learned it was a whopping $245 USD for a one way voyage. Gulp. Nope. That’s crazy talk! I wasn’t interested in spending nearly $400 to save myself a day of riding. Next I figured I’d take the boat from Digby to Saint John, NB. That too would have saved about a day’s ride. Unfortunately, it was booked for the next 3 days. I opted to just hit the highway.

It was another beautiful day for a ride and Jules and I were making good time. I came upon a couple of other bikes and tucked in behind for awhile. These situations are always a bit weird for me. Do I hang back like I’m one of them? Do I blow past them? I don’t ride hard to keep up to others, so why would I ease off to tag along? Eventually I decided to blow past. It always feels rude for some reason, so I gave a big wave and carried on.

I hauled off for fuel at a big truck stop and noticed the other bikers had pulled in too. When Jules was topped up, I wheeled over to park next to the folks I’d passed. Andrea and Rick were there to meet up with other folks for lunch and they invited me to join them. It’s always such a treat to share a meal with others. It’s an even better treat to share the meal with new friends. When we left the truck stop, I continued on my way to Moncton; my first stop on my way home.

I’ll tell you about my time in Moncton in my next post, but let me just back it up a minute here. I’m writing this two weeks after my adventure ended with me rolling into my driveway to see Brian sitting on my front steps. He had dinner ready, a bottle of wine and hot bath on standby. I felt blessed. I thought I’d returned home much the same person as when I left; unemployed*, loving life, and lucky to have great kids, wonderful friends, and the love of a man who was my high school sweetheart a gazillion years ago. All of those things were still the case when I arrived home, but I really am not quite the same person.

Early on in my days alone after saying goodbye to Brian in Manitoba, I started to feel pretty dang lonely. It was pretty much like the loneliness I felt on my solo Irish adventure too. When I got home two weeks ago, I didn’t think I was any different a human being than when I’d left in August of this year. I guess that’s the beauty of personal growth…you don’t actually know you’ve grown until you encounter a situation and think, “Huh! Six months ago, my reaction would have been entirely different!”. That’s what’s happening to me now.

I have a lot of time on my hands these past two weeks. Much of that idle time I’ve spent alone. I live alone. I work from home alone. All of this is just me and my four walls. Or my yard. Or….with Jules. Now I’m ok with the alone-ness. Sure Ireland was nearly a decade ago and I’ve had a ton more experiences since then. But I think it’s more than that. I think riding through that loneliness on this cross-Canada adventure for six weeks and emerging on the other side of it comfortable with my own company is a change that will pay dividends in myriad ways moving forward.

People asked me how I coped with the loneliness. I guess for me writing about my adventures helped me heaps. Of course I’d always look for an eatery where I could sit up at a bar and chat with whomever might be sitting there. That was definitely an easy way to connect with others. On the road though, when I’m only stopping for a short while here and there, I really worked hard at being present with whomever I chatted.

So what does ‘being present’ actually look like? Just stop for five minutes and really connect with whomever you’re speaking; even if it’s in passing. Stop everything and just listen. It was when I was present that I noticed the light in the eyes of others, the eagerness of other people to share that they too have a bike, or whatever they want to share. Being present didn’t just help me overcome my own loneliness, I could see how it made a difference in the life of another if even for just a moment. I didn’t have to know that person to recognize their smile was genuine and they continued to wear it even when walking away.

The more people I spoke with along my journey, the more I realized the loneliness is part of the human condition. We all experience it in some way at some time in our lives. Sharing those stories helps others realize it’s not a shameful way to feel.

I don’t typically do this, but if you’ve done a solo adventure of any kind and noticed differences in yourself afterwards, I’d love to hear from you in the comments.