The Milwaukee native spent 2001-2005 biking around the world. He chronicled this in his book, Falling Uphill. He is touring the United States, primarily on a bicycle, to promote it.
I have this memory of following my dad in the car as he bicycled to the lakefront. I was amazed that somebody could ride their bike in the road as if they were a car. That planted the seed.
I like to say I had a really bad week. In one week I got fired, my girlfriend broke up with me, and my best friend eloped and left me alone in the apartment, stuck with the rent. I just felt crushed.
I sat for hours and asked, ‘If I could do anything, what would I do?’ I don’t want to be lying on my deathbed thinking of all the things I wish I’d done. It kind of popped into my head, ‘Why not ride a bicycle around the world?’ The idea was so contagious, it wouldn’t let me go. My skin tingled.
Typically I rode four or five hours, some days 12 hours, pedaling and brooding. I was alone the majority of every day. That was the hardest part. I was always lonely.
I bicycled more meters of Mount Everest than the average climber. In Africa, I almost got trampled by an elephant, and I had a little run-in with the Tanzanian army. In India, some old wise men invited me to share lunch with them and their family. It felt like they were giving me a part of their life.
I quit thousands of times. South America was the hardest. I was sick and my bike wasn’t working well. I just kept saying, ‘OK, one more day, one more country.’
It was a spiritual quest. I sampled all the religions and cultures as I went along, and I’d like to think I discovered the meaning of life. I think I finally got a little peace.
Coming back was a shock. I looked in the mirror, and I had all these flaws that were so easy to see now. A lot of those things I tried to run away from were still there. That took me years to get over. You haven’t really traveled until you go home again.
– as told to Rosemary Lane
