So much of my experience here is connected to cycling; I often wonder if I would feel the same about this place if I couldn’t cycle. It’s become such an essential part of my well-being, I honestly don’t know.
The way you experience a place by bicycle is unlike any other. You can see the views with uninterrupted vision. You are moving slower than driving, so you can take it all in for so much longer. You also really understand the landscape and the routes. Again, going at a slower pace allows it to sink into your memory more easily. Whether in the country or a city, I’ve never found a better way to get to know it than by bike. If you are walking, hiking, or running, you can still hear and smell all the things. But by bike, you can explore further. You can get anywhere a car can go, but also on small hidden trails.
Then there’s the feeling. It’s the closest thing to flying, especially when going downhill on a swoopy route. If you rode as a child, that sense of freedom you feel never leaves you. For those with a competitive nature, there are endless challenges. You see how fast you can climb a col, how many metres you ascend, how long you can go. You compete against yourself more often than not, but on occasion, other cyclists provide good incentive to push yourself. Sometimes, as a woman, the motivation is when a man is trying to chat you up, or ride your wheel without telling you, and you feel uneasy and want to get the heck out of there. Regardless, there is no shortage of things to keep you turning over the pedals.
So this week, when I took a rare day off the bike and was checking over my gear, I noticed I had busted a part of my right cleat. Of course, the new cleats don’t work with the old pedals, so I had to buy an entirely too expensive new set. But what was the option? Ordering from somewhere online only for it to be delivered in “gulp”, three weeks? Three weeks off the bike? No thank you. So I bit the bullet, paid for the new stuff, then begged my friend Sarah if she and her partner Peter could help me remove the old cleats. It required a drill or a saw—neither of which I tend to keep on hand here—because they were so worn down.
I managed to ride through the process on my broken cleat, so I didn’t really miss out. And after a bit of elbow grease, we managed to get my new pedals and cleats working. All is right in the world again. But I am pretty sure I have my answer. Without being able to cycle here, or truly any place I am (I have bikes scattered around the globe, just in case I need one), I don’t know if I’d be the same person. It helps me stay healthy in my head and my body. It’s my comfort, my meditation, and it makes me a better human. So, here’s hoping that I can keep pedalling away for as long as possible.
Even though I have a new bike, I’ll never stop loving my old girl :)
