Today's ride was good. long. but good. A little challenging in length (85k), but not in height, and it feels like an accomplishment. I needed one of those.
I'm starting to see the value in biking. I feel I know this island now better than some of its residents. Its gradual slopes, fifteen mile downhils that blow you away when they just keep going and going. The mountains ahead, I'm singing "The Sound of Music" at the top of my lungs, surprisingly on key and still happy to be riding alone so no one will catch me in this embarrassing euphoric expression.
I rejoice in the things I'd never see in a car. The marten and the turkey vulture that took off a few feet in front of my tire. The way that old forests smell different than new ones. The muted greens and browns of the clearcuts, the greys of concrete and cloudy skies, with an occasional blue peeking through, beautiful but not spectacular. The colors subdued, blending, spiked with occasional orange marking tape, yellow flowers, a red barn, their contrast making more impact than they deserve.
At least once per ride, I stop on the side of the road to take pictures. They never do justice to anything other than my poor photography skills, but it's a nice break and a reason to appreciate the best moments. I'm so much stronger than I was a week ago, and I want to make riding mine, keep it, and not let these muscles melt with desks and winters.
Climbing into my sleeping bag, my body is tired and my brain follows. It's been a good day.
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