My first day out of Nashville was another century that carried me to Monterey, TN, as I started to really work my way into the Appalachians. I always love the strength I feel after a rest day. There’s so much power in my legs. I didn’t time my breaks properly that day and ended up riding 66 miles nonstop between second breakfast and lunch. It was hard, but my body answered the call as it had been doing for 3,000 miles by then. After a weekend indoors I was more than happy to sleep in my tent that night, stealth camping in the public park. By this time the tent felt more like home than ever. As I cooked my dinner and enjoyed the free Wifi from the McDonald’s across the street, I became reflective. I had known all along that Nashville would mark the beginning of the end, and on that first night east of Nashville I started to think about my whole trip to that point. Not just the current tour, but also the PCT and the bike tour the year before. Less than a thousand miles from home, the weight of all I had done started to sink in. And I felt thankful. Thankful, tired and ready.

The following day I made a last minute decision to push all the way to Knoxville. My main destination was a re-encounter with the AT in Hot Springs, NC, the next day, and Knoxville worked out to be the most convenient place to split the trip. The ride was hard, with many big climbs, but it was special. I started getting classic glimpses of those Blue Ridges that are so familiar to me. It felt good to see my favorite mountains shining their blue haze down on me. I love them so much; they feel like home.

Knoxville was great. My host for the evening worked late, so I went to a bike shop and met a really cool shop rat who took me to a good coffee shop across the river. After that, I went to my host's boyfriend's house to wait for her. It was so nice just to hang out with a guy my age. We talked cycling, and he took me to a co-op where I downed a half gallon of chocolate milk before we met up with my host. The three of us went to downtown Knoxville, hung out at a very cool bar/bowling alley, played pool, and cycled around the city enjoying the warm, early fall evening. I sensed an amazing vibe in Knoxville and could totally see myself living there one day.

The next morning I hung around until 9:30 (extremely late for me), relaxing with coffee and biscuits and enjoying the fun, spontaneous time there. I zoomed through my ride that day, eager to get to Hot Springs, the first of many familiar stops as the tour wound to a close. The ride was full of beautiful, blue ridge views over wide rivers -- scenery I know so well and love so much. It felt great to be on the AT that night, at the Laughing Heart Hostel, where I met a cool flip-flopper finishing up her thru-hike. I felt thankful to be with thru-hikers again for a night. I plan to hike the AT again, and just being in with that community for a night lit the spark I'll need to make that happen.

Heading to Asheville next, I had some familiar faces to look forward to seeing. People I feel incredibly lucky to have in my life. First, I spent a day with my sister. She was in Atlanta for work and took the time to drive up to Asheville see me. I’ve always been closer to her than anyone else and getting to enjoy her company for a day of this tour, just as I had when she came from Los Angeles to Yosemite to see me during my PCT hike, meant everything to me. Right after she left town, Darwin, with whom I finished the PCT, arrived with his wife, Snuggles, on a bike tour of their own. They were just in time to beat a hurricane, which we spent the next two days waiting out in Asheville. My initial reaction to spending extra time in town, as always, was frustration. I always want to get out and cover more miles. But this close to the end of my journey I found it quite nice to slow down, chill out and enjoy the rainy days with two absolutely delightful people.

After riding out for a day with Darwin and Snuggles, I headed off on my own again, now truly on the final stretch of my tour. The Blue Ridge Parkway from Asheville to its northern terminus in Rockfish Gap, VA, gave me a special couple days of riding: classic, cold, Appalachian fall days with crisp, fresh air and clear blue skies over the distant blue ridges. Each day I pushed over a century and rode right into sunset, the evening skies full of amazing colors. Even at the end of the day, when I was exhausted, cold, in pain, and so ready for the comforts of home, the magic of those mountains gave me energy. Bike touring is hard. It hurts. Some days it’s cold and miserable, and yet I love it. On my penultimate parkway day, a light, cold rain started as I ate breakfast in the dark. It didn’t let up until 3:00 PM. My toes were numb the entire day; freezing, hard rain stung my face. But there was never a doubt that I’d make the century-plus ride to my Warmshowers host in Roanoke. And, damned if that shower didn’t feel amazing.

After one more century, I finished the parkway triumphantly and headed down to Charlottesville, where I picked up the Trans-America Adventure Cycling route, a cool bookend to my adventures. Nearly 15 months earlier, I headed west on that route from Yorktown to begin this crazy year-plus of adventuring. Re-riding those first 150 miles as I headed to Norfolk, I remembered how I struggled through those miles in 2017. This time, they were cake for me. It put into perspective how much stronger I had become, mentally and physically.

My final night before Norfolk, I stayed in the Willis United Methodist Church in Glendale, an awesome church that hosts hundreds of cyclists each year, including me on night one of my 2017 tour. The church kitchen, the tables, the different sleeping rooms all were familiar. My evening there, 15 months earlier, still felt very recent. I had spent that evening with a cyclist who was finishing his tour, as I was now, and the memories of that night suddenly came back. We had spaghetti. He gave me some good advice and the pressure gauge that I was still using to check my tires. The next day I rode to Ashland, which now I passed through again. That church, those routes, those roads, all so familiar. And yet, I was such a different man. I thought back to who I had been 15 months ago, with so much ahead to experience, so many people to meet, so much hardship to overcome, so many miles ahead. And there I sat, exactly where I was on the first night of this great adventure. Did I feel wiser? I certainly felt stronger. Mostly, I just felt tired. I went there and back again. It’s funny, the bike mechanic in Charlottesville was the same guy I met in 2017, so too was the piano teacher at the church, doing exactly what she did on that late summer evening. Life went on while I was gone. And now I was back and it was all the same. Yet I was so very different.