The day after the STP and a GOOD nights sleep, Michelle and I woke up in Portland. I woke up with 2 numb toes from the bike shoes, a left hand that just isn’t working right from shifting (had this before, it will go away) and a strong desire to head west to ocean!
Yep, instead of going home and back to work, I had planned for us to head to Cannon Beach to recover. Last night, while looking for a place to eat, I snapped this picture
And it started me to thinking…
Even though this is not the type of bike I ride, it is still a pedal powered machine. I have posted more than once that learning to ride is a kids first taste of freedom. Once we dropped the training wheels on our first bike, we started pushing the limits.
I would ride as far away as my parents would let me, and the push it farther. In our trailer park homestead early on, I was first allowed on my road and the close by cul-de-sac. I soon learned I could ride all the roads and not get in trouble, as long as I checked in now and then. I am pretty sure now they knew I was riding long, but chose not to let me know they knew.
Later, on Fort Lewis, I rode all over hell and gone. Roads, trails, tank routes, you name it. If the bike could get there I took it. I drank out of hoses on army buildings and came home starving. But while on the bike I was free from all cares, worries and concerns. I was never unhappy on the bike.
And that’s why I love it today. Work stress melts, kid stress goes away, grab the bike and crank out some miles, and the smile that kid had comes back. It’s magic. Two wheels have taken me well into the mountains and to the Ocean, around lakes and along raging rivers. Anywhere my nose points (even with the sunburn I am sportin now!) my bike can get me there.
The bike got me 200 miles Saturday, but I was a bit disenchanted with riding. I didn’t have fun, I was sore, and even though I KNOW I will ride again soon, yesterday I wasn’t looking forward to it.
But then I saw the guy above and took the picture….
Even more so than pedaling, the ocean, especially the Pacific Ocean at the Oregon Coast has healing powers. I can, and have, sat and watched the waves crash for hours against the rocks.
Its the only place that rivals the mountains for me. The little kid in me that pushed his parents limits on the bike, likes to imagine that the waves I am seeing originated thousand of miles away, started by some other cyclist in Asia, throwing a rock in the ocean.
Looking out over the water, I am just amazed at the thought of the billions of years it took to create the ocean, all the life that lives there, the power of the water and waves. And, if I had a big enough boat, the bike and I could go anywhere and see everything. Some are humbled by the ocean, I feel invigorated.
So seeing the wheels and waves together rekindled my desire to ride. I want to see new things, have new adventures, and continue to challenge my 50 year old ass (well almost) to do even better things (just not 200 miles in a day!) I don’t know what the future will hold in store but damned if I am not going ride looking forward and riding hard!
And for the unknown guy in the picture a Haiku:
Riding on the sand
The endless ocean near you
Go like the wind pal!
Thanks for visiting!