A Gentle Morning at the Campground
The morning air was cool, but the sunlight streaming into the large campground kitchen felt soft and calm.
I brewed a cup of coffee and ate a little pasta. That was enough for a traveler’s breakfast.
Then, a French traveler offered me a slice of cake he had baked. It was sweet, gentle, and comforting—like a quiet embrace after a farewell.
A Gift That Became Strength
As I prepared to leave, I reached into my pocket and found something unexpected.
It was a piece of fabric with the logos of the Adelaide Crows and the Hawks—an Australian football item gifted to me by the kind host family I had stayed with.
The moment I held it, my chest grew warm. It was just a small cloth, but it felt like a little flag lifting my spirits.
I realized that when times got hard, when sadness came, this token could remind me to stand up again.
Facing the Road to Mount Gambier
My next destination was Mount Gambier. For the first time in a while, I set out to ride seriously again.
But the truth is—it was tough. The wind pushed against me without mercy, and massive trucks roared past, close enough to shake my body.
Doubt whispered in my mind: “Maybe I should have accepted a ride in a car instead.”
And yet, I was still riding. That small “flag” in my pocket kept pushing me forward.
A Short Distance, A Meaningful Step
By the end of the day, I had managed about 20 kilometers before setting up camp.
It wasn’t a long distance. But today reminded me that what matters is not how far I go—it’s that I keep moving forward on my own two legs, with my own effort.
That truth made the day feel enough.
