Why I ride…

My gosh I’ve written about cycling a lot over the nearly twenty years of this blog. Here comes another. You’ve been forewarned.

Thursday as I departed Andrew and Ek’s apartment, I told Miss I was heading out on the bike and getting lost. She knew exactly what I meant. So as I made the familiar turn right one hundred yards into the ride and then a left three miles later, I began to look for side streets of interest. Took about nine miles before I found a good one. Turned right and almost immediately knew it was good. 

The sound of morning commuters subsided. No more trucks. No more cyclists riding to work or to market. Just me and the sound of the wind. Took a left a few miles later and it was a bonafide “white road.” No cars. Few bikes. Another right turn onto a road straight out of France – wide enough for a bike path in the states. Loved it. Passed a few cattle farms, lots of wheat fields, and then the road turned to sand and grass. Made my way for about a half a mile and decided better of it. Turned around. As I made my way back to the paved road I noticed another cyclist flying by. Decided to give it a go and try to catch him. Burned a few matches but got on his wheel in less than a mile’s time. Before I could catch my breath he signaled for a right turn onto another French kinda road. I pulled up beside him moments later and between breathes asked if he spoke English. “Yes I do,” was his friendly reply. “Where you heading,” I asked as normal breathe returned. He told me he was heading out another 10k and then reversing course back to Berlin. I promptly asked if he would allow me to join him. “Of course,” was his quick reply. 

That quickly. A new friend was made. 

I pulled up alongside and started firing away with questions. His name is Hans and he’s a research dude at Berlin University. Architect by training. His research speciality is urban development. Forty nine years old. Married. No kids. Wife works in Munich. They rally on the weekends via the train. She doesn’t cycle. They mostly hike between beer gardens. Love sharing Sunday’s in the Bavarian alps. He’s lived around Europe including a stint in Finland where the summers are never dark, winters never light. Damn.

In between my questions, he showed me new roads around the German countryside. Beautiful. 

Told me about the Berlin cycling club that departs every morning at 9bells from a restaurant we rode right by. Told me Jens Voigt leads the group on many a morning. He’s a (Tour de France) cycling stud from back in the day and still tears it up pretty good according to Hans. Showed me where the German helicopter group is located. They fight terrorists and are responsible for border control, he continued on without so much as catching a breathe. Loved it all.

This is why I ride. 

I ride to converse. Meet new friends. Listen to old ones. Push the limits on occasion but mostly just enjoy the scenery and camaraderie. I ride to take in God’s creation and marvel at it’s majesty. I ride to reset, reframe, and remember. Thirty five years ago, Jordan (age 5) asked me to take him out of the neighborhood on his new bike. Seeing him pedaling freely through a farmers field onto Sherborne lane (where we now live) reminded me why I rode as a little boy. In a word – freedom. 

I’ve missed the miles this year. Since April 1 and my damn biggest cancer cut ever, it’s been hard to get miles outside. The helmet and my open wound were not fast friends. No bueno. Been stuck on the pelly for way too long. I’m out and about now and it’s a great reminder of the joy of riding. Love the smells, the scenery, and the conversation. Love the backroads, the dead ends, and the not knowing. Love the surprises and the adventure of learning by looking and listening. Love the speed. The bloom of sweat. The lactic burn. Feeling the heart rate rise. The lungs expanding and contracting in search of clean air. Love the wind pushing me homeward and a warm sprinkle that cools. Love the warmth of low morning light. Love riding with friends. Love the occasional new friend delight. Love it all, you know.

As Hans and I made our way back toward Berlin, we reached a crossroads where I went straight and he right. We stopped. He dug into his pocket and handed me his card. Told me to contact him and we would do this again. Shook hands. Waved goodbye. As I pedaled on toward Andrews place I noticed something beautiful and bright. Something underrated and somehow perfectly priceless. Something guaranteed to deter fatigue and defeat fright. Something universal and oh so right. What was it, friend, I noticed? Glad you asked. Do not miss this. This could be huge. 

I was smiling from ear to ear. This is why I ride!

Live hard. Love harder. Smile…