I don’t know when it happened, where it happened, how it happened, or what the catalyst was, but I am no longer in love with what I am doing. Maybe it was the constant crashing that the ice-swept roads of northern Oregon put me through, or maybe it was the four flat tires in one day. Maybe it is that I haven’t felt comfortable and connected to my bike in a long while, I still go numb 5 miles into my day. Maybe it is the hurricane I sat through yesterday. Somehow I don’t blame the weather for my shift in attitude, although it is a struggle. I feel I keep rounding corners believing the world would open up before me, I would fall into rhythm, and all would continue according to plan. My highlights of late have been my arrival at mini-destinations (Vancouver, Seattle, Portland) and my subsequent time off the bike. Each day I am executing the motions of the trip without any interest in doing so, merely habit and routine. I find myself constantly exhausted, disappointed at the alarm for bringing on another day on the bike. Of course, I haven’t a clue for what this means, for me or the trip. Nathan and I discussed the 80/20 ratio for an adventure trip like this. His take was 80 percent tough going and a serious struggle, and 20 percent bliss. I hated the idea of a trip so miserable. Somehow, it seems he is loving 80 percent and hating 20, while I am stuck in the exact situation I didn’t ever envision; loving 20 percent and hating 80. At the moment I am in Newport, Oregon where I intend to rest a few days and analyze what is happening. It sounds like what I need is a break, but I took a long one in Seattle just a short while back. It seems I need to be re-inspired, but if the Oregon coastline can’t do it, what can? I am not interested in dumping the emotional havoc upon my loyal readers, but it just so happens that is what this unwinding road has decided to dish out, who new?