Touring as a Tribute to My Father

About two weeks ago my dad died.  It has been a hard couple of weeks.  Now every time I get on my bike I start to cry.  Mind you, my dad and my riding are not connected in some special way. However, I think the reason I cry is because riding is a contemplative practice for me.  Riding is a time when I am in my body and quiet.  It is both active and reflective.  It is a time when I can ruminate.  Recently, my ruminations have been about my dad and my upcoming tour across the country and the connections between the two. 

My partner and I have been planning to ride our bicycles from Bedford, MA to El Segundo CA – We will travel east to west, across Adventure Cycling’s Northern Tier bicycle route, then to the Lewis and Clark trail, and then down the pacific coast.  We will ride more in one summer than I do most years.  It is a rather daunting trip and it is odd that in the midst of grieving, I am planning to undertake something so challenging for me.  Yet, I think this is a good thing.  It reminds me of things my father said to me, especially late in his life, about living for the day and following your dreams while you can.  I think he felt he didn’t do enough of that.  So, in a funny way taking this trip is a tribute to my father. 

I’m Back – And Touring

I wanted to get back to writing on this blog.  It has been a long absence.  I could make a lot of excuses but that is boring and unnecessary and now is as good a time as any to start up again.

David and I are touring for the second summer.  We are going from home to Lake Winnipesaukee and back again.  To get there it is going to take two days and we will go over 100 miles.  We are taking a longer route home which will take three days.  While at the lake we will hopefully ride around the lake (which is about 70 miles) and go swimming (or at least I will). 

Touring is an interesting business. It reminds me of backpacking, only on bikes.  Pedaling is like hiking – each pedal stroke is a step and when you are going there is nothing else to do but be in the zone and go.  It is a moment of simplicity – you can’t do anything else but pedal – although I could worry about the unpaid bills and the busyness that awaits me when I get home, it is not useful at all.  So I don’t. I just pedal and look at the sunflowers and the old barns that are part of the New England scenery. 

The pace of touring is slow.  The loaded touring bikes weigh a ton.  I am not sure how much, but I am averaging about ten miles an hour.  This means that it took us about five hours to do the 51 miles in the first day.  It’s good to slow down – on the bike and in general.  I allows for contemplation and simplicity.  It allows for time to do nothing – but pedal.  This is not something I do much of otherwise.  My life gets crowded with obligations and tasks – for the most part ones that I take on willingly, but busyness all the same.

It’s also wonderful in that I am out in a world that is outside of my routine and normal sphere.  I meet people who I would not meet if I wasn’t touring.  For instance, yesterday we stopped at a yard sale to ask directions.  A preacher kindly gave us directions, and gave Rosie (the stuffed bear who rides on the back of my rack) a Christian track trying to convert her.  People come in all kinds, and to experience the breadth of them, you have to move beyond the bounds of your home turf.  I am also aware though, that some of the people out there may not receive me kindly – they are racist or bigoted and could be hostile to who I am.  Yet, so far, my experience has been that most people are for the most part well intentioned and willing to help if they can.

Touring allows me to be a stranger in different worlds – and from that position I can see my world in a new light.  It gives me a fresh perspective.  This is good in a world far too dominated by bogus TV driven ideals of what we should want to be and do.  This is another way I am blessed.