lite & lucid

I am no stoic, but I like to at least have an appreciation for our daily comforts.  I enjoy and have grown used to air conditioning, electricity, comfortable mattresses, and soft towels. If I know those comforts, it’s only from having slept on the ground for a few nights.  That’s all it takes really.  This was our first bike overnight, and I absolutely loved it even though the first two days of the Big Bike Across Missouri, the Big BAM, could more accurately be named the Bike Against Missouri.  Gusty headwinds up to 20mph, and humid temperatures flirting with triple digits drained our energy stores and enthusiasm on the 52 miles of day one, and the 57 of day two.  I would have rather left the wind in Oklahoma, from where all wind seems to originate. But the gusts which swept me into a rest day can take the credit for squeezing a few words down onto paper inspiring this post. Oh, and I was serious about sleeping on the ground.  My thermarest died and acted more like a paper towel between me and the earth than the thin cushion of air I was depending on.  This hurts a hell of a lot more in my 30’s.

Due to not having trained and the conditions that shocked my body, I acquiesced to the idea of a mid-week break during the 6-night, 6-day ride.  On the ride we started from Weston, on the Missouri river above Kansas City, camped in Kearney, camped in Lexington and then made it to the first rest stop on the third day before we called my Mother to rescue us from the elements. During our time off I could hardly move from her recliner. I used to feel tougher than this.  As the laundry turned, my untrained legs and sore seat recovered on cushioned comfort.

The thoughtful route was the highlight of this  intimately-sized supported ride. The Missouri towns were every bit as charming as I had hoped, beginning with the old port town of Weston nestled on the river.  We enjoyed a fun night at O’Malley’s Pub, complete with a speak-easy tunnel and floors underground before retiring into the first night of tent camping since we were each at Air Force survival training a long time ago.  We enjoyed lively music all nights, and visited a Civil War battle ground in Lexington.  During the days we rode through small towns that barely had a cafe, but if they did they were called Hootenany’s or Wagon Wheel.  They are the kind of places that call their cousins in to wash dishes and prep cook when 600 bicyclists ride through town.  They are the kind of places that have epic pie.  These things created the taste of the ride, and made it delicious.

The whispers from the adventure of the road drew us from cushioned furniture and daily comforts back to such an enriching experience.  Not unlike my hike in Colombia, the feat of battling but still enjoying something like the roads meandering across Missouri seems to always be worth more than the cost.

Rejoining the ride on day five we coordinated with our new found riding friends at the second rest stop, which happened to be a fantastic covered bridge.  From there I rode 35 more miles before setting up camp at beautiful Mark Twain Lake State Park.  We were a group of three tents in a tent city sharing our icy brews.  We found our way to the lake beach to cool down like desert nomads find an oasis as the temperature so gradually fell.  Then showers, food from the food truck, another round and happy conversation completed a perfect day.

The last day of the trip was by far the best, the pinnacle and reward for the week. Not to mention it ended with two frozen strawberry margaritas!  The weather was unbelievable, the winds mostly cooperative.  The route was a satisfying mix.  It had long, straight, flat and fast segments, where I learned how to ride together in a tight formation.  There were plenty of miles left for rolling hills and a couple of life-changing climbs. The kind of pictures I stored in my mind from this day are the ones that will sustain me during any other time in my life.  I will remember being tucked in tightly as a number three rider in a group of four, cruising through river-flat beauty.  I can access these pictures and memories anytime I like. What treasures. These things are what truly create wealth.

Knowing it was the last day, knowing that those I was riding with did the entire ride, every single mile, I was energized beyond my fatigue.  It was a 50 mile day and the hills towards the very end proved the mental challenge-and-conquer that builds character even more than quadriceps. The second-to-last was particularly gnarly.  After that hill, as when I hiked down from the Lost City in the Colombian jungle, I felt an overwhelming satisfaction.  Soon after, we dipped our front tires into the mighty Mississippi as a team.  And went straight to the margaritas!  Eureka! I have found some kind of formula for happiness.

What I really learned on this ride was to listen.  I listened to the elements surrounding me, to the dangers and opportunities behind and in front, and to the group I rode with in case they slowed, turned or stopped.  I listened to sage advice to take a break when I was going too hard.  I listened to my body and what pace it could bear.  I listened, and only because I did, I was able to forge through to the last day and finish the ride without injury or other consequence.  We finished as a team.  We were flexible and we adapted in order to accomplish that.  C’est la vie!  We met some fantastic people, and I saw and shared the state that raised me at a perfect pace.  I better rest up, I better train, because there’s a lot more road to cover.