"Just living is not enough. One must
have sunshine, freedom, and a little
flower."
Hans Christian Anderson
Deep within me, despite my age, I still have the desire to ride my bicycle and to explore despite the fact it is harder physically than it once was. I am fortunate in this, in having this desire, because ironically I also have the desire to sit and rest. Sloth and the need for activity war within me at times, particularly when a ride or activity will be physically demanding and possibly painful at times. I know, however, which brings the most satisfaction. Not always, but often I make the right decision, assuming either one truly is "right." And perhaps that is because right is the wrong word: satisfactory, desirable, rational, discerning? Bless the English language with all the words and their shades of meaning.
Jon is putting on a century I have only done once before and have only done when the weather was decidedly unpleasant: the Five Bridges Century. It passes by five covered bridges:
Today there is to be at least some sun and warmth, though the prediction, which never comes to pass, is for increasing cloudiness. The wind prediction does give me pause, but this is apparently going to be one of those years where you ride in wind or you don't ride. It will be a head wind most of the return, but I have already told Jon I don't intend to ride fast and he says he is okay with that. I often have a hard time accepting someone's word when they say this, but on this occasion I will since he knows me well enough to know my pace and could have just not asked. I originally had suggested a shorter ride, but then he tempted me with this century and I acquiesced shoving any doubts firmly down.
My right knee has been bothering me. It is not painful, but it makes me know it is there and whispers to me that if I abuse it, it will become painful. But while there is lots of climbing on this route, there are no exceptionally long or steep climbs and I am taking my new bike which has easier gearing than the Lynskey.
We meet at the hospital unsure if any other riders will join us. They don't. We are fine with that knowing that while we would have enjoyed the company of others, our friendship will be enough to see us through the day. And we have not spent much time together recently so we do have things to catch up on. What books are we reading? What travel plans are in our future? And so on and so on.
Sadly, the redbuds are gone, but there are still dogwoods at places along the route. We see wild blue phlox, grape hyacinth, and other flowers that are lovely but which I can't identify dancing alongside the road. In places the fields that farmers have not sprayed or plowed are thick with butter-weed, their yellow so beautiful and cheerful as if they are applauding the sun. It is hell on allergies, but oh so very lovely. The purple Dead-nettle and Henbit are mostly gone. Occasionally we see iris beginning to bloom. Some fields are browned from being sprayed, and while we will pass some fields where farmers are working, we somehow elude being nearby while they are spraying, something we are both grateful for. At one point we pull off to allow a tractor to pass. We are playing. He is working.
As we climb a hill, we both view what we at first think is a wild turkey, but it turns out to be a stump and we both laugh at how our eyes can trick us. We later do startle a turkey who takes off, awkward in his flight due to the size of his body but sufficiently upset at our passage to actually fly. Jon tells me an interesting fact about Pterodactyls and how they would not be able to fly today as the air is different than it was then. Sometime during the morning, as we descend a hill, a car is stopped in the wrong lane. As I approach, the car door opens and a young lady goes running down the hill. There is something lying in the road she is obviously going after and I wonder if a child threw out a toy. I then see it is a box turtle. She parked in the lane so nobody would run over it and gently moves it to the side of the road. It is a good way to start the day, watching this act of kindness in a world which seems to be constantly reminding us is not kind.
As we near the first store stop, we decide to skip the first bridge as we both have seen it many times both during rides and when we hike. It also will avoid one of the steeper, longer climbs and cut about a mile off the 107 mile course. We stop at a coffee shop before heading onward. At the first bridge we stop at, I find a large hunting knife as we walk up to the bridge. It is too large to fit in my front bag. Jon helps secure it in my rear bag though it sticks out a few inches. He later finds a cord along the road and we tie the zippers together so that they won't loosen and I will not lose anything. Jon finds a nickle at the same bridge and chuckles saying how it pays to ride. I tell him I think it would be interesting to keep track of everything that we have found and taken home on rides. Earlier this week I found garden clippers on a ride. He agrees that it would be.
While I don't photograph them all, we stop at each covered bridge and even at a bridge that is not covered but is old reading graffiti. One still has Christmas lights hanging and I think how beautiful it must be at night during December. Jon reminds me it would require riding at night to witness it. And of course, I used to ride at night a lot but haven't since I quit working and quit doing brevets. A part of me misses it as it is so different from daytime riding, but it is unlikely that I will ride very often at night anymore. Not impossible, just unlikely.
At lunch we sit outside on a bench and enjoy our sandwiches. At the third store stop, the manager of the store comes out and tells us we are crazy when he hears how far we are riding and then asks if there aren't normally more of us. Jon reminds me that the last time we did this ride, we heard the same words, just from a different person and reminds me that she rolled down the window as she left the store cautioning us to be careful. And perhaps they are right: maybe those of us who ride distance aren't quite right, but we are pretty harmless in our addiction. The stop is welcome as the wind is wearying, but we move on and finish it out. Near the end Jon runs into a friend from the Madison Bicycle Club whose wife is trying a borrowed ebike. She quits at their home but he rides with us to the hospital where we end but he continues. I tease Jon telling Doug that I have had to put up with him all day and it is now his turn to do so.
It has been an altogether pleasant if long day saturated with sunshine and friendship and flowers and a little freedom. By the time we end, my feet and hands and body are ready for it to end even if my mind is not. I remain thankful for bicycles, sunshine, flowers, the health to ride, and friendship. I am blessed.
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