C is for Cycling.
I wrote this a couple of weeks back when on a solo journey from Wangaratta to Bright.
Cycling — a metaphor for life.
This morning I wanted to go home. Last night, the caravan park I stayed in was very pretty but the ‘spirit’ of the place was ‘pretty dodgy’. It takes a lot for me to feel physically vulnerable but climbing into my tent last night I was overcome with a huge sense of vulnerability. There was nobody around. I was alone in the middle of nowhere. I therefore had a restless night filled with a variety of dreams/nightmares. I woke up this morning feeling exhausted. Generally I love a life of solitude but it does have its dark side. I didn’t want to ride 60kms today on my own. Yesterday I had felt like a hero. Today, I was a grumpy worn out middle aged single woman.
However, there was not a lot of options available to me. I could call someone to rescue me but I’m far too independent for such an option. Returning home meant a 40km ride and a bus ride. Continuing was a 60km ride. Not one to quit, I chose to continue.
My first mistake of the morning was I read a road sign that merely said ‘rail trail’ and pointed west. I headed off. It was uphill. I was struggling then realised I’d finished yesterdays ride on a descent, so my gears were the most resistant they could get. Changing them down helped but after 2 kms, I didn’t know how I was going to make the day. I then looked up at the sun and suddenly realised I should be traveling East. Sometimes natural signs are more reliable than man made ones — we just need to remember to read them. I managed to find an entrance to the trail,turn around and head back toward where I had started the day. I had just done 5kms I didn’t need to do.
My bike and bags seemed heavier today yet I knew it was merely an illusion. Physically they were the same as yesterday. Emotionally though, they were much heavier. After beating myself up for my stupidity, I figured I just take the day slowly. There was no deadline to reach Bright other than before sunset!
A few kms out of Myrtleford there is a steep and long incline. When riding up hill I always look into the middle distance. Looking too far ahead at the top of the hill is too depressing. I push the pedals and just keep going. At one point, a couple flew past me heading down the hill. The woman look at me and said, ‘it’s a big hill’. I smiled at her encouragement. As soon as she was gone, I looked up and thought, ‘ Yes but not as big as yesterday’s. I can do this.’
I reached the top and began the descent down to Myrtleford — an exhilarating but slightly nerve racking ride as the weight of my bags increases the possibility of a spectacular fall.
As I was hurtling down the hill, I thought about the metaphorical mountains in all our lives. To the woman who passed me, this hill was big. It was but, to me (when I gained perspective) it wasn’t as big as others I’ve encountered. That doesn’t make me a better person. It merely makes me different. To this woman, it might have been the biggest she’s encountered. Or, like me, she may have been more exhausted than when she’s traversed others. Comparison between journeys is pointless. The mountains you’ve climbed, whether they be grief, illness, relationship breakdown, financial struggle, are all tough no matter how many you’ve traveled before.
The other thing that struck me was the joy of the descent. It is easy to be jealous of those who seem to be cruising through life at the rate of knots — thinking their life seems so easy in comparison to the mountain you’re struggling to climb. But today, as I sped down the hill, I realised the couple I had seen descending blissfully earlier has just climbed the hill I was now descending.
The realization was this:
You don’t get to cruise through life with pure joy unless you’ve previously climbed up a mountain. It is then really hard to envy someone’s success. It is more likely to inspire celebration.
I reached Eurobin (10km out of Bright) and met a woman who wanted me to take a photo of her to prove to her kids she’d ridden this far. We chatted and shared stories. She donated some coins toward my fundraising efforts, but more importantly I got to hear her ‘mountain’ story — she had a significant health challenge and cycling was building her confidence.
Cycling through the countryside is a meditation and metaphor for our daily existence, we just need to keep pedalling, stop comparing and encourage our fellow travellers.
Tomorrow is rest day for me (that means less than 30kms). I was tempted to try Mt Buffalo (elev 1119m) but decided that slowing down would be the better and safer option.
