***Quick Update on The Ramble Project***
We’re back in Idaho, adjusting to life off the road and settling into the rhythm of re-entry. One of the biggest highlights was welcoming our grandson into the world—amazing beyond words. And with all the intense heat and smoke, riding is more challenging, so we haven’t been able to cycle as much as we’d like.
For now, we’re technically “houseless” until we can move back into our home in October. It’s not as bad as it sounds. We’ve been exploring the West (by car) and camping a lot, which has been great. And we’ve also been bouncing around between visits with generous friends and family. This transition has been far from easy, but we’re still moving forward. Cortney and I have a couple of micro-bike trips planned in the weeks ahead, so stay tuned for those. In the meantime, we’ve been reflecting on our journey and wanted to share some thoughts on how it’s impacted us. Here’s one. It’s about minimalism and embracing a simpler way of life.
Some Thoughts on How Cycling Around the Country Helped Us Embrace Minimalism
Bike touring, much like backpacking, is an exercise in minimalism. With limited space on a bike, you’re forced to pare down to the essentials.
Our daughter played a crucial role in this by acting as our “box sherpa.” She kindly stored our extra clothes and necessities in her garage and would mail us items via general post as needed. A lot of what we packed went unused, and when we finally returned and opened those boxes, we were overwhelmed. It was astonishing how much stuff we had. The irony is that we remember packing these boxes and thinking it wasn’t much at all.
Funny how your perspective changes.
Cortney and I have always leaned toward a streamlined lifestyle—eight or so moves in 25 years will do that to you. But after nearly a year of living on our bikes, our understanding of minimalism deepened. Deciding what to bring was initially challenging: What was truly essential? What can you live without? But once we were out on the road, the unexpected benefits became clear.
You don’t need a lot of material things to make you happy.
Life on the bicycle is really pretty simple. You need to figure out where you’re going, find food, water, and shelter, do a bit of maintenance, and, of course, ride your bike. That’s pretty much it. Traveling in this way showed how little is needed for true comfort and happiness. (And it doesn’t come from your possessions.) It comes from less distractions and being more present and in the moment. Plus, the fewer things we carried, the more we appreciated each item’s value.
The freedom of carrying only what’s necessary.
Renting out our house and living on our bikes was daunting, but shedding most of our belongings brought immense freedom. With only the essentials in tow, we felt more liberated and connected to our journey. Our friend Brent in St. Paul, after a long tour in Europe, said, “If it doesn’t fit on the bike, I don’t need it.” We couldn’t agree more.
Reduced stress.
With one jacket, one rain shell, one pair of pants, and one coffee cup, decision-making became effortless. More focus could be placed on what mattered: nutrition, navigating traffic, and soaking in new experiences. Without a doubt, this simplicity increased our overall sense of well-being.
Valuing experiences over things.
Without a lot of material things to weigh you down (literally and figuratively), we were able to focus on our experience. We didn’t buy souvenirs, but we did journal prolifically and take a metric ton of pictures. We spent time talking with people wherever we stopped, be it a cafe, outside a supermarket, on a rail trail, or at a camp. These are things, unlike material items, that you just can’t put a price on.
Stronger connection with the people and the landscape.
Cycling is a deeply human way to explore the country. This slower, more intentional way of travel enabled us to notice the subtle changes in landscape and enjoy the warmth of people we wouldn’t normally talk with—whether it’s a farmer sharing stories at a restaurant, a fellow traveler offering tips at camp, or a curious shopper asking questions outside a market—and form a deeper connection with the world around us. The minimalist mindset not only lightened our physical load but also freed our minds to fully embrace the journey. We were no longer rushing from one place to another. We grew more present, taking in the world around us.
As Cortney and I look back on this journey, we see how truly transformative it’s been. Stepping outside our comfort zone led to unexpected rewards, especially embracing a minimalist mindset. Now, as we return to everyday “normal” life, we’re determined to keep it going—avoiding clutter, focusing on quality over quantity, practicing mindful consumption by buying less but choosing well, and making things last. Shedding the excess has been liberating, and while we’re not full-on minimalists yet (though Cortney’s close), the benefits are undeniable. And we’re eager to continue this ride.
Are you a minimalist or minimalism-curious? Please share your thoughts and experiences on embracing a simpler life in the comments. We’d love to hear from you.
Erik- I think you’re on the right track with this post. There have been several big adventures in my life, one was a sabbatical by small sailing/rowing boat on Canada’s Inside Passage. It required many of the changes you’ve described above as well as a dose of awe in being in such a raw and beautiful place. I tried to keep that feeling going like you describe, but find that I need to go back out to the wild more and more each year- like I’m missing something if I don’t. As for the minimalism, that’s always a useful thought. In my regular life I need different stuff than on a tour. There’s a line between self reliance and the fact that we are part of a larger community, whether we want to be or not. I look forward to seeing how you find the balance as you settle back into your former life. -Bruce
Thanks for your comments and insight, Bruce. We’re looking forward to seeing how we find the balance too!
Hi Gang,
Greg from Templeton, CA here. As always, your words are both inspiring and right on point. I have traveled in all 49 states on my motorcycle and 48 in my 23′ motorhome. I recently returned from an 8000-mile cross country adventure (to Northeast and then home along the southern portion). Both in my travels on my motorcycle and in my RV, I too, have learned how little we can all live on. It is said ‘everything we own….owns a little piece of us.’ The less stuff the greater the freedom. Due to getting older, I don’t want to leave my kids a bunch of junk to have to get rid of, so a couple years ago I started liquidating….a long way to go but have had some measurable success. We all need to consume less and reuse more. I hope your message gets read by all those who you have made contact with and they, too, will find something in it that they can ‘reduce, reuse, recycle’.
Great to hear from you, Greg! Your words—and travels—are inspiring. Thank you, as always, for your support and thoughtful comments.
Erik and Corts
I have to admit that I was against this idea from the beginning, but each post I read got me closer to appreciating what you guys were doing. As I read your post today I thought more about what you actually did and the way you did it and even though most people my age, (Old) would never have conceived of such a journey I found myself caught up in your adventure. Your interactions along your route, (both between the two of you and the people you made an effort to get to know) had to be very special. As you go forward in whatever lies ahead I know you will find that place that will be perfect. You are two very special people and I am proud that you are a part of our family. Enjoy your new grandson. He and his parents are very special.
Thank you, Roger. That’s so nice. We appreciate all your love and support—and we’re proud to be a part of this family too! And we couldn’t agree more about our new grandson and his parents. Much love to you!