Tag: bicycling in california

Big Sur Ents

“Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.
~ Hermann Hesse, Wandering”

 

Highways through the RedwoodsAt about twenty miles south of Carmel, the highway dips back into the forest, pulling me through a magical transformation from a breezy open seafront ride to a quiet and still ride through massive redwoods that are hundreds of years old. The road weaves through lush forest studded with redwood giants for about ten miles, a mixture of state park lands and private property with a gentle and hushed quality.

I’m deeper into Big Sur country now, and the sense of remoteness surprises me. Thousands of cars must drive this road each day when it’s not closed, enjoying the scenery, buying food and fuel from the little general stores that dot the side of the road occasionally, eating in the quaint little bars and restaurants. Yet, the sense of remoteness remains.

There’s a mystique to the place. It feels wild and untamed. Towering redwoods line the road. The unique coastal climate creates a tropical lushness in the forest. My mood and mindset have changed as I’ve moved into and through the forest. I feel more relaxed, less scattered, more basic. I stop a couple of times next to large redwoods, lean against them, press my hand to the bark. Ancient trees have a wonderful energy. Their time horizon is beyond what we can imagine. Closing my eyes, I can imagine Ents talking in deep and slow voices…

I’m reminded of my grandfather and grandmother. He lived to be almost 100, she to 101. Sitting with them always wrapped me in a unique sense of time and significance. The world they were part of was much bigger and broader than mine. I hadn’t lived enough years yet to have such a broad world. Yet, while I sat with them, I could feel their world. The breadth of it would wrap around me and make me feel a small part of it while we sat together and I listened to their stories.

My world is getting more broad as the years tick past. The things that seemed so urgent and critical to me when my children were young seem less significant now. My perspective has evolved as my world has grown. I can only imagine what it must feel like to view the world with the wisdom earned as a hundred winters pass.

Big Sur Coastline

That’s why we need extended families. We need grandparents to help raise our children. Their perspective is more broad, and they’ve hopefully gained wisdom and understanding along the way. While their eyes may have started to dim, they see more clearly than is possible without the experience behind those eyes.

I miss those grandparents, and think of them as I rest my hand on the trunk of an ancient redwood. I imagine them quietly and patiently touching me back through that trunk, smiling, staring from a world too big for me to imagine.

Pilgrim Wheels Excerpts This post is part of a series of posts, representing excerpts from Pilgrim Wheels, a story of a cycling journey across America. Pilgrim Wheels will be released in early March, let me know if you’re interested in doing an advance review.

 

Pilgrim Wheels Excerpts This post is part of a series of posts, representing excerpts from Pilgrim Wheels, a story of a cycling journey across America. Pilgrim Wheels will be released in early March, let me know if you’re interested in doing an advance review.

 

 

The Beautiful People

“Fear is only as deep as the mind allows.”
~ Japanese Proverb

 

Carmel. Land of the Beautiful People. It’s cute and homey. Gives me a warm and comfortable feeling for the start of my adventure. After dinner I walk down to the beach to enjoy a beautiful sunset surrounded by all the Beautiful People. I call my brother Erik and wish him happy birthday. He thinks the trip is dangerous, and has been trying to talk me out of it for months. He’s got the worry gene too.

Carmel Beach at Sunset

 

I stand on the beach, talking to Erik, reassuring him that I’ll be fine. He tries one last desperate attempt to convince me to spend the time fishing with him instead, though he and I both know I won’t turn back at this point. What Erik probably doesn’t feel, though, is just how attractive that safe and comfortable alternative sounds to me right now, as I battle the little claws of doubt that have grown over the past couple of days.

Not that worry is a wholly bad thing. It can certainly help in the decision-making process, so long as it’s moderated. In the case of this trip, there are surely things I should worry about – crossing hundreds of miles of desert on a bicycle in the worst month of the year, for example – but should I let that worry keep me from a great adventure? Worry and fear are two sides of the same coin. They can paralyze us if we let them. Or we can turn them to our advantage, and use them as wise counselors, to be ushered from the room once their counsel is heard and understood.

The temptation is to usher fear and worry from the room as soon as possible, before we hear their wise counsel. The emotions that come with fear are uncomfortable. Sitting under a gnarled tree on the beach, bathed in a glorious sunset and a tiny breeze that’s salty and cool, I recognize the emotions that come along with fear, and I push them gently aside. Beneath those emotions is an adventure waiting for me, an adventure I’ve planned for and trained for. An adventure I wouldn’t miss for the world. An adventure filled with plenty of unknowns, some risks to to fear, and buckets full of real life.

I’m bathed in confidence and contentment as I walk back up to the Green Lantern Inn. Not cocky—just content that I sat with my fear, listened to it, absorbed it. Then turned and walked toward the adventure in front of me.

 

Pilgrim Wheels Excerpts This post is part of a series of posts, representing excerpts from Pilgrim Wheels, a story of a cycling journey across America. Pilgrim Wheels will be released in early March, let me know if you’re interested in doing an advance review.

 

Flirting With The Force

“What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.”
~ T.S. Elliot

 

The automatic doors part for me as I push my bicycle across the threshold into the bright Monterey sunlight. The safety and protection of a controlled and modern world is in back of me, shrouded in low light and a quiet hum. The bright light of adventure lay in front of me.

A pretty young woman sits on a bench outside the terminal. We catch each other’s eye with small smiles a couple times. I think this is flirting, though I’m not very good at either recognizing it or executing it. I’m pretty logical, which drives me to want to analyze and evaluate things. With flirting, once you analyze it, the opportunity has passed.

There’s a process, an unspoken ritual, that’s wrapped around flirting. A little of this, a little of that, then maybe some of this over here. It’s all body language and vibe. For folks like me who rely a lot on logic and words, with an analytical bent, flirting is unknown and confusing territory. I suck at it.

The young woman rescues the situation (I suspect it’s usually the woman who must rescue any flirting situation if it’s to progress) by offering the first comment:

“Did you bring that bike on the airplane?” Continue reading “Flirting With The Force”