The practice of quietly riding every day is a powerful one. Sometimes the more challenging the circumstances around me, the more still I become inside, the more clearly and deeply I can listen. So I enjoy coming up against my limits. Hard conditions pare me down and lead me to the places in me that are still gaurded. Because where I am guarded is where I no longer live from my truth. --Annie
At the beginning of this day we weren’t sure if it might be our last. Todd’s rib pain made it nearly impossible to get on the bike, but another Percocet set him up. Given that the road was so quiet, he didn't have to worry about being slightly off due to the drug. It was slow going at first -- very slow going, Thankfully it was an easy grade and cool shade protected us from the building heat.
By 2 PM that had changed, The road had changed too, venturing away from the river and up to where the logging companies were in full tilt operation, creating vast open areas where heat seemed to rise up off the naked mountainside and plow down to envelop us as we rode. We did sample lots of blackberries and enjoy the quiet, quiet world.
As the day went on we drew more deeply into ourselves--- Todd due to the pain of his ribs, me due to anxiety about the heat and growing exhaustion after 10 days of riding. By the time we go to Cottage Grove, despite eating and drinking along the way, I was a bit beside myself. I needed a lot. I needed food, rest, coolness, sleep. I needed to get off the bike.
Even in my stupor, I was able to appreciate Cottage Grove. To our delight, the tree lined main street was thriving with small cafes and stores. We had expected a sprawling wide boulevard lined with big stores since the town was so close to the major North/South interstate 5 . Somehow, Cottage Grove, preserved it’s beauty and an intact Main Street.
I was kind of delirious, but Todd knows me to be made of hardy stock so he put forth the idea of riding another 26 miles to a great campsite “Sharp’s Creek.” “No way!” I said emphatically. “I don’t have it in me.” He didn’t say anything and went to find a library. He is good at sensing when I am not in a good space to be reasonable. And... there have been enough times when all I need is a little time and food to get myself together again.
I went to the bike store to get the skinny on where to find camp stove gas, food and a good campsite. When I am tired I get in survival mode--- what do we need? Where can we get it? The young man there, Chris, was a real ambassador for his town--full of ideas and questions. Despite my tiredness and hunger I enjoyed myself immensely. He pointed me towards a local restaurant that served local beef burgers and local color. And... he said the campground we wanted to go to was at the end of a 21 mile flat rail trail bike path.
When I met up with Todd at the library we did some Internet work and then decided to eat. We still had the stress of trying to find stove gas before heading into some wilderness, getting to the campsite and finding more food, but at least we were about to eat a locally raised beef burger.
The reality of a long distance bike tour: Many people have more good sense than us and hire a bike touring company to take care of everything while you ride through beautiful countryside. It’s a great idea. They cook, carry your gear, keep track of the route and maintain your bike. I highly recommend it! Some of us, however, can’t resist the allure of being self-sufficient out in the big wide world. Having everything you need on your bike and being the master of where you ride and for how long is a prize well worth the cost, to us. But, the cost can be high. A self-supported bike tour is a never-ending series of decisions about food, camping, gas and route-finding. Throw in there some bike maintenance, health issues (like a cracked rib and sore knees) and you have a recipe for stress.
I think the key is to make sure the person you are touring with has a similar sense of things. Todd and I are well matched. We both have a high tolerance for discomfort, dirt (when you can’t shower), beans for breakfast. We both get a kick out of being very resourceful -- finding useful things by the roadside, eating other people’s leftovers, pocketing the sugar and butter patties at the restaurant. We are both very careful about our stuff, work hard on establishing routines for breaking down camp, cooking, etc. But we are easygoing in general and don’t get wound up about the small stuff. There is no energy for resentment and bickering. We have an ongoing joke that was born midway on a back country ski adventure. We were high on a mountain, bushwhacking through this horrific scrub pine when Todd’s ski broke. I just looked at him and calmly said, “Well. I guess that changes things.” So.. that’s what we say when something kinda big and icky happens, like cracked ribs.
We have our areas of stress. He has a higher tolerance for discomfort so I sometimes put pressure on myself to keep going, sometimes I think he diminishes my discomfort like it’s no big deal. I am less fastidious than he, so I can lose track of things, which is hard for him. Some days we just can’t seem to communicate. I have a taste for more creature comforts but he loves the random chocolate bar I pull out of my bag or the extra food I stashed. We are well matched physically, which is very important, although touring can be a great leveller as you can load up the stronger person with more gear.
Above all else, I think both people need to enjoy the same kinds of experiences. We love interacting with people, checking out historic markers and relaxing in similar ways.
So.. what happened? Well. I got a good burger in me. If you don’t feel like going on, just eat a meal. In my typical “get er’ done" fashion, I asked the guy at the table next to me for camp stove gas and he agreed to meet us at his house with the gas! (The Coleman fuel comes only in 1 gallon containers, so we only needed a little bit and offered him some money for it, which he refused.)
Food and rest can do wonders, so I said, “Let’s get to that campsite before dark.” After a quick resupply at Safeway we headed out into the fading light on the lovely bike path:
Before we got too far we picked up the gas. The kind man, Mark, set it out in his driveway with a note saying, "God Bless you." A great example of the kind of generosity in the world.
It was nearly nine o'clock and almost dark as we rode along in silence looking for the campsite. Finally I pointed out what looked like a camping spot on the side of the road and we pulled in even though it wasn’t the campsite. In the dark we discovered a beautiful crisp swimming hole, set up our tent and slept hard. But not before I asked Todd if the next day would be a rest day. YES!
