The Fully Loaded Bike or You Don't Always Get What You Want . . .

I arrived in sunny Florida.  How do you argue with 80 degrees and cotton-ball clouds with palm trees blowing in the wind?  (Other than the hope that the winds are to your back.)  Picked up my mom and enjoyed real New York pizza.  Coming home my mom encouraged me to put the bike together.  I might of waited but she was right, I needed the focus.  Two hours later my machine, she looked mighty fine.

Well at least I thought so.  My mom saw the loaded beast of burden and decided that the whole trip needed to be canceled.  To be honest, I was also a bit concerned and took the bicycle down to the parking lot for a lap or two to see I could really ride the thing.  You betcha I could.  Yet this did little to appease my mom, who thought I should rent a car for the three months, stay in hotels, eat in resturants and just maybe walk away (or rather fly away) from the whole bad idea.  I would not say that the weighted look and weighted feel of the machine was filling me with confidence either but the mom vote is in: Don't go. 

Will I give up before I start?  No way.  Will I shorten the daily milage?  We will see as I test out the bike.  Might it be that I will give up along the way?  I'm not much of a quiter, but have I bitten off a lot. Wow, the challenge is before me.

We agreed to go through my stuff, all five bags, plus chair, tent, and sleeping gear and see what might be lost.  My friend Amir says that I never pack any thing I need, rather I always pack two of everything I need.  Tomorrow begins the lightening.