Commuting reprise

Thank you, Howard, for a thoughtful post. To someone who doesn't ride or enjoy the outdoors....your
post would have been jibberish...but I understand it perfectly. Perry

Quoted message said:

I ride for the pure and simple joy of doing so.

Very good post, Howard.

--
Bryan J. Ball Publisher/Editor 'BentRider Online Magazine www.bentrideronline.com

"Howard Bishop" <[email hidden]> wrote in message
"]news:[email hidden]...

Quoted message said:

It is a beautiful afternoon, I tell myself. If I keep telling myself that, maybe I'll grow to
believe it. Yesterday, however - yesterday was 30 degrees warmer with a New Mexico kind of a sky.
Nobody would dispute that yesterday was truly a beautiful afternoon.

But today...

Today the wind has teeth. The sky is solid overcast, and the lack of definition to the clouds
broadly hints of rain. An unpleasant but apt match for my state of mind as I unlock the bike and
decide whether to wear my coat or strap it to the rack. One more look around and I opt to wear the
sweatshirt and bag the coat. Next month won't offer an option.

I do wear the gloves, though.

Home is around 9 km away - if I take the short way. But already I know I won't. Today I need the
time. I need the distance. I need the perspective. So I'm not really surprised when the turnoff to
home slips behind and I press on straight upwind toward the bike path. By this time I'm pretty
warmed up, and grateful to have had uneventful crossings of three significant roads. Soon I'm
running 26-27kph on the path with a couple of cold and wind driven tears starting back toward my
ears but they evaporate before they get far. The path itself is deserted except for one 8 year old
on a BMX bike. I slow down as we meet (he's a little wobbly), and we exchange waves. I'm glad for
the greeting.

Another 10 minutes and I've passed the airport and am outside of town. Any latent frustrations are
now miles behind me. I wait at one more intersection and take a fresh look at the sky. It has
texture now, a deceptively subtle pattern that tells a story of the unending struggle between hot
and cold, wet and dry, and between lows and highs.

Home is straight downwind now, and now I am ready to be there. Using the wind as my unwitting
ally, I hold nothing back. 39, 40, 41 ... I don't care, and I don't look again. It is enough to
absorb every hue, every scent, every burble of wind. I soak it all in as the bike seems to
disappear beneath me. I want this part of the ride to last. I want to be home.

I tell my wife I ride for the exercise. I tell my coworkers I ride to save gas and money.

I lie.

I ride for the pure and simple joy of doing so.

Quoted message said:

I lie.

I ride for the pure and simple joy of doing so.

On my ride day (I have Tuesdays off) there is a voice that sometimes comes up from rationality
questioning my use of time and physical incarnation space as the legs strain to warm up and the
first few miles of traffic give way to the serenity of the bike path. It's funny. I hear it and
I sometimes answer back, but usually I just ignore it knowing that it soon will fade with the
other ratioanalytic mumbo jumbo that flashes across the mind screen. The thought basically
follows the theme, "Why are you spending another day on the bike when you have so many more
important things to do"?

Miles have taught me to be silent. To make no reply. To not indulge that argument. Miles have taught
me to be more aware of spin, of pace, of form, of that wonderful interface of rubber and asphalt -
gliding on those few square inches, if that.

The transcendence of the ride holds my attention. Observations come and go, the constant being the
human/machine interface, the speed, the momentum. Miles metaphorically click by, was 12 now 3 to
turn, it will come soon enough. Look, another hawk, wow to fly like that. Wind is not the enemy;
wind is just another force, another variable to slide into the evolving equation of the ride.

Maybe I'll just do another 15 miles today. Just keep this going. There's still light. I'll make it
home before dark. Wow, what a fabulous way to spend a day off. At home I put my machine away and
shower. And reflect. My first solo metric century. 62 miles of bliss. You just have to be there to
know. And that is the answer to the nagging question.

Lon HepCat Sacramento

[email hidden] (Howard Bishop) wrote in message
news:<[email hidden]>... <snip>

Quoted message said:

I tell my wife I ride for the exercise. I tell my coworkers I ride to save gas and money.

I lie.

I ride for the pure and simple joy of doing so.

There's a Bicycle Zen thing running that ends this way:

Fifth Student: "I ride my bicycle to ride my bicycle."

Zen Master: "I am your student."

---------------------------------------------

Today in Portland it's 50 degrees and clear. It's windy, though: Wind Speed(Avg): 22 mph Wind
Speed(Gusts): 26 mph

The ride in (with the wind) was fun. Going home (against the wind) is gonna be a bear.

Jeff