Notes on Cycle Touring...
Another hill, I glance up at the steeply rising road and take a sigh. I don’t know if my legs will get me up this one. The weight of my tightly packed cycle touring bike is drawing down on my shoulders, more so in the baking midday sun. The glare on the road gives the scene a hazy mystical quality. I’m day 3 into a spontaneous trip around Wales, I’m carrying everything I need on my wheels, eat and sleep. I take a deep breath, lick some sweaty salt from my lip and give myself the affirmation I need; you’ve got this one Mike.
I left home in a wobbly jittery excitement. Liberated by a sense of escapism and freedom whilst hoping that my neighbours wouldn’t see me struggling to stay upright at the first junction. It took me time to adapt to the new weight, panniers swaying side to side at any rise out of the saddle, like one of those pendulums. A big load but I’m feeling lighter. My campsite booked in North Wales, I was in no rush, all day to take in the views over my 60 mile Garmin planned route and soak up some rays.
I know I can get up the hill, my mind likes to play tricks on me, throw little doubts and curveballs. I redistributed the weight after the first day, lesson number one, don’t over pack the rear panniers unless you are planning on pulling some wheelies up the steeper gradients. The bike feels more grounded now, holding the road and zipping along surprisingly well.
Earphone in one ear, music is my friend, too coincidental to not be a message, Led Zeppelin Stairway to Heaven starts as I approach the climb, adding to the moment. ‘It makes me wonder.’
The spine of Wales reminds me of childhood home. English country garden comes to mind. Rolling hills, farm land, the smell of cut grass, sheep galore. A monster of a tractor meets me sharply around the tight corner on a country lane, luckily I’m slow and ready for this, I grew up on lanes like these. I get a buzz from the rev of the engine and the rattling of the tin can trailer carrying silage. I’m transported back to youth on the farm, golden summers in the fields whilst dreaming of a different future.
It feels like I’m back home, taken back to this time but with a different engine. My body is ageing, takes longer to recover and can breakdown quickly. I get a sense of cycling through a timeless past which is part of me and shaped who I am, I held onto a sense of this and somehow have found a way back to rediscover its joys whilst bringing more of myself which I’ve found along the way. I meet eyes with a sheep in the field, its blank expressionless face talks to me in my painful pursuit, ‘Humans, crazy eh.’
I’m on the climb, feel the burn in my quads. The chain jumps down to the lowest gear and I keep my head down. Slow deep breaths, the sweat trickles from my forehead. I hear the churn of the big bailer in the field adjacent. I hate it when a car comes from behind on these climbs, feel the impatience and urgency to pass. I make a few zig zags and jump out of the saddle to mix up the pain. The crest of the hill approaches and Page’s bending riff kicks in at just the right time. Someone knows I need a boost, come on lets have it, somewhere I find the energy to singingly shriek with Plant’s wail ‘and as we wind on down the road.’ I’m euphoric.
The doubt and negative self talk have vanished, making way for a sense of joy and aliveness. My fist pumps and I let out a pulse of energy. I’m finding that my most meaning comes on the other side of some of my biggest fears or challenges. What have I been stopping myself doing and why? Am I moving towards the person I want to be, a life long journey of failure and discovery. On top of this living Welsh hill I’ve had one of those moments, smiling and ready for more. Closer to parts of myself I’ve held on to from the past whilst bringing new treasures I’m just discovering.
