Roger decided that the motivation to finish the TransAmerica Trail, which meant riding through not only the heat, but the humidity of the south was no longer there. Pueblo is the halfway point on the trail. It marks the end of the Rockies and the beginning of the south. Pueblo is also where Roger grew up, so he has family and friends in the area that are anxious for his arrival. At age 59, being recently retired, and having a new girlfriend back in Minnesota that he desperately wants to see again, I can only have respect for his decision. If I have only half the energy and enthusiasm for life that Roger has when I am 59, I will be eternally grateful.

Before setting out for our final day of riding together, we stopped for breakfast at the Moose Lodge to fill up on french toast and coffee. There was no need to look at maps this morning or to discuss the distances we had hoped to cover today. We knew where we were going and knew that in a few hours, our travels together would be over. Instead, our conversation was about life, what was next and what had been.

Roger had spent a lifetime working for the government, making a solid living by helping others in the often difficult, but often rewarding field of prison education. His career was based on helping inmates turn their lives around, giving them skills to succeed in the outside world, and giving them hope that they could one day survive. The daily rigors of his job had him deal with the beuracracy of government, the processes set in place by each new administration, and the orders and mandates of the courts. Roger's perspective was to accept the beuracracy as part of the package and to focus on the work, the good that he was doing.

In contrast, Roger recalled his friend Bob, the man from England that had started the trip with him. Bob was in the construction business and made a very lucrative salary that allowed him to live a very comfortable life. One day Roger asked Bob, "What's the difference between us? I spend my days doing honest work, helping others and trying to make society a better place. I have a master's degree, manage lots of people, and have responsibility for how our department operates. While I make a comfortable salary and have an enjoyable lifestyle, I can in no way compete with you. You've made a lot of money, have a beautiful house in England, and own a cottage in the south of France. What do you think the difference is?"

Without hesitation Bob responded "Risk. You don't have to worry about where your next paycheck is coming from or when it's coming. I do. If I don't work, I don't get paid. Also, when I do a job, I need to get a loan from the bank. It's my signature that goes on that piece of paper. If something goes wrong and I can't pay that loan, I'm through. I'll have lost everything. Sure I make a lot of money, but my life is constantly filled with risk. It's all about how you want to live your life. If you want to make a lot of money, then you need to take risks."

After breakfast, Roger and I began our final ride together. It was only 38 miles from Kremling to Silverthorne, so we rode with a relaxed pace, knowing we had plenty of time, and just enjoyed the scenery and each other's company. We arrived at the parking lot of Wendy's at 10:30, where I had made plans to meet my cousins. They were not there yet, so Roger and I ordered lunch and just sat in the air condition and waited.