Above: Ready to hit the road in front of Chris and Miranda’s house
After a big breakfast and a long talk with Chris in which he showed me pictures of the straw-bale vacation house he is having built out in Colorado, I pushed off and hit the road under clear, sunny skies at about 10:30 a.m. The air was crisp and felt good going into my nose and mouth. A steady tailwind coaxed me along. I rode for about an hour over smooth roads and maintained an average speed of about 15 m.p.h. before I slipped, without warning, into what can only be described as a state of cyclist’s ecstasy.
My whole body moved as if it was designed purely to push the pedals of a bicycle. Every part of me fed energy and information to my legs and feet so they could better do their jobs.
The roads opened up, the cars almost disappeared, and I raced through groves of pines and fields of tall grass. Over the sounds of Paul Simon’s album Graceland playing in my headphones, I heard the high whine and flutter of my chain and tires spinning. I was completely enveloped in the moment. All of my thoughts drained into either my smile or my moving legs, leaving my mind clear and concentrated on nothing but the pavement ahead of me and the scenery whizzing by me.
There was nothing left to do but scream, so that’s what I did. Over and over again, I yelled out “Woohoooo!” and “Yeaaaaaaaaaaah!” as loud as I could.
In the midst of those blissful moments, I remember thinking, If we could somehow figure out a way to bottle this, this moment and this feeling, every one of the illnesses in the world could be cured.
All the sweat and tears and sore muscles and cold nights in the tent up until that point were worth enduring just to experience those few sweet and exhilarating miles.
Posted in Bike trip: Southern States America
