As evidenced by how lazily casual I am in the quick video I took to prove the control point, touching the southernmost point buoy down in Key West didn’t feel like a significant moment when it happened. That sense has shifted a bit as I’ve been talking with folks on my way up the east coast and approach the easternmost point in Lubec, ME but it’s still somewhat a “I mean, I just rode my bike here, what’s the big deal??” kinda vibe in my book. It’s a lot less complicated than waiting for marine life to die and decompose for a few million years under great heat and pressure, digging that up out of the ground somewhere on the other side of the world, putting it in big tanks on a boat to send allllll the way to Houston where some kind of magic happens, sticking it in leaky pipes that take it all over the country, then putting it into a metal box in the front of another larger metal box, and setting it on fire so it’ll explode but somehow still waste 80-something% of the energy on keeping the radiator warm while spraying poison out the back of the metal box? Weird flex but ok.
All I did was grab some pizza from a dumpster and pedal a bike. It’s a lot less complicated.