Temptation on a Solo Bike Tour
When I set out on a solo bicycle tour across the southeastern United States, I expected the usual challenges — physical exhaustion, unpredictable weather, mechanical breakdowns. What I didn’t expect was an emotional detour that would quietly test my values and sense of commitment.
I was excited to explore new roads, meet new people, and soak in the freedom that long-distance cycling offers. One afternoon, while hunting for a bike path that promised 30 peaceful, traffic-free miles, I stopped near a vintage art store in a small Louisiana town. That’s where I met her.
The Unexpected Invitation
She approached as I adjusted my gear and asked if I was biking cross-country. Her voice had a warm Cajun lilt. She told me she owned the art store. My Texas drawl intrigued her as much as her accent intrigued me. We talked for nearly 45 minutes — about the road, about art, about life.
She was warm, confident, and easy to talk to — the kind of person who feels instantly familiar, even though you’ve only just met.
As I got ready to leave, she surprised me with an offer: to meet in my next destination town 40 miles down the road. “We could grab dinner,” she said with a smile, “and continue the conversation.”
I was flattered — and honestly, I felt the pull. There was a quiet chemistry between us, and her body language hinted that her offer might have meant more than just dinner. I told myself it could stay innocent, but I wasn’t sure I trusted the moment — or myself — enough to take that risk.
Loneliness on the Road
Long-distance solo touring can be lonely. Not just “I’m riding alone” lonely — but a quiet, lingering kind of isolation. A kind that makes even a small connection feel like something extraordinary.
Her invitation was innocent on the surface — but I felt the weight behind it. Her body language spoke vloumes. I knew, without a doubt, that if I said yes, it would lead to something I’d regret.
I’m a married man. And I’m committed to that marriage. Saying no wasn’t easy. But it was right.
I thanked her, sincerely, and declined.
The Ride Away
As I pedaled out of town, I felt a strange mix of sadness and clarity. I’d shared a genuine connection with someone — and let it go. That moment lingered longer than I expected.
But it taught me something I wasn’t looking for:
Even on the open road — where everything seems possible — some boundaries are worth protecting.
What the Road Taught Me
Cycling continues to gift me physical freedom, mental clarity, and unforgettable moments. And sometimes, those moments come in the form of a gentle test.
That day, temptation met integrity. And integrity won.
🚴 Want more ride reflections like this?
- The Day I Almost Quit
- The Day I Rode with Robin Williams (Sort Of)
- How Cycling Gave Me a Second Act in Retirement
When you're riding alone, you don’t get second chances. These are the three pieces of gear that have saved my hide more than once—especially on long, lonely stretches of Texas road.
- Touring Panniers – They can survive rainstorms, chipseal, and a dog chase. Light, tough, and the only ones you can trust on 400–900 mile rides.
- The Mirror That Saved Me More Than Once – I once saw a truck drifting before it saw me just outside of Brownfield, Texas on a multi-day ride. This mirror has been on every bike I’ve had since 2014.
- My Compact Camp Pillow – tiny, weighs nothing, and stops that brutal neck stiffness after a freezing night in a tent.
FAQs
Is it common to feel lonely while bicycle touring?
Yes, even experienced cyclists can feel isolated — especially during long solo rides. It’s important to find small ways to connect: local chats, journaling, or calling home.
Have you ever regretted not taking an offer like this?
No. I sometimes wonder how that dinner would’ve gone, but I don’t regret staying true to my values and the commitments I made off the bike.
Do emotional challenges happen often on tour?
Yes. On a long solo tour, the mental battles can hit harder than the physical ones. You can feel lonely, frustrated, tired, or flat-out fed up for no obvious reason. It’s normal. Every rider hits those low spots — sometimes daily. The key is knowing they pass. Eat, rest, reset your head, and keep pedaling. The emotional dips are part of the ride, and the high points on the other side make the whole thing worth it.
Last updated November 17, 2025 - minor edits

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