In MIDDLE MILES: Cycling from Canada to Mexico Along the Pacific Coast Highway, Cory Mortensen documents a life-changing solo bike trip, blending daily travel entries with candid reflections on aging, identity, and life’s unexpected turns. Part memoir, part road journal, the book isn’t about racing or records; it’s about what happens when you give yourself the space to simply move forward.
The third entry in Mortensen’s Buddha and the Bee series, MIDDLE MILES opens with Mortensen standing at the U.S.-Canada border—looking south and setting out with little more than a bike, a loose plan, and a willingness to see what unfolds. Now in his fifties, Mortensen is more interested in testing his current limitations than chasing down his youth: “Today, I trade comfort and ease for uncertainty, danger, unpredictability, and isolation,” he writes early on. The result is a captivating mix of journal entries and stream-of-consciousness reflections: “Today marks another test to push myself further. Adapt, overcome, quit, or die trying.”
While the book’s subtitle hints at some sort of epic feat, MIDDLE MILES is less about cycling itself than the quiet revelations that Mortensen discovers. The former entrepreneur and lifelong wanderer muses on everything from roadside ghosts and historical oddities to memory, mortality, and the metaphysics of his GPS’s “virtual partner” (a digital rival of sorts that doubles as a clever stand-in for his younger self).
Fans of travel memoir writers (like Bill Bryson or Cheryl Strayed) will likely recognize the format: daily entries that mix mile counts with personal musings. Of course, Mortensen puts his own spin on things with a style that’s funny, self-deprecating, and always sincere. His writing also tends to wander, often following odd historical tangents or quiet philosophical questions, but it’s that curiosity that gives the book its charm.
From a structure standpoint, MIDDLE MILES doesn’t follow a conventional narrative arc. Not unlike Mortensen’s trip itself, the book is casually unpredictable and often reflective. Readers looking for a deep-dive in gear or training advice won’t find much here, and some of Mortensen’s digressions can admittedly stretch a bit long. Still, the exploratory tone is part of the book’s charm. He’s not racing toward a new “personal best”; he’s pausing to take in the view, dig into a local legend, or to follow a memory wherever it leads. The book’s layout and design support this rhythm as well—with maps, route logs, photos, and epigraphs giving the book the intimate feel of a well-loved travel journal.
A thoughtful, often funny travel memoir, Cory Mortensen’s MIDDLE MILES: Cycling from Canada to Mexico Along the Pacific Coast Highway trades cycling stats for philosophical detours—all while reminding readers that the real reward lies in the ride itself.
~James Weiskittel for IndieReader