The day had been planned for months. I had sold or given away my belongings--records, books, CDs, clothes. All I had was what I could pack on my bike and a couple of boxes to be shipped to me when I eventually reached New York.
Not sunny, but also not raining. An apt omen. I got ready to go, rode to my bike mechanic--the one last person I had not said goodbye to yet. Had a final lunch with a good friend, met my sister for a farewell, and set off.

From my journal:

Leaving Seattle was weird. None of it seems real.