17 October 2011 Ride: Pain and Beauty

The longer rides makes it more and more difficult to get the posting for that day's ride up on the same day.  This is especially true if anything out of the ordinary occurs.  This was certainly the case yesterday.  The evening before, Sunday, we found out a friend of ours had died.  This was the husband of a colleague of Carol's at work.  The news was shocking and out of the blue.  Fortunately for the wife, the community support is incredibly strong and her house has been filled with people offering solace just by their presence.

For me, this was a like sucker punch and, for a short time, put into question the pursuit of the 10,000 miles.  What's the point? was my initial reaction.  There were so many mixed emotional reactions surrounding his death.

Come Monday morning, I knew I would still ride and planned on making it a long one, planning a route far out into the country.  However, until I heard from Carol who was stopping by our friend's house that morning,  I rode in a holding pattern in the Habberton area waiting to see if I my be of assistance that day.

While circling, I passed this rather "insignificant" small yellow blossom that most would probably take more for a weed than a flower in one's yard.  The second one below first caught my eye because of its contrast to being splayed out against the concrete culvert.  Then, I took the one immediately below.  I decided to include both because they feel distinctively different; the first one with its more closed petals, more prominent hairlike follicles and puckered raisin center in contrast to the second one with its molded cake-like center with petals that seemed to have been decoratively placed around the little cake.

Twelve miles into my holding pattern, Carol called that there were lots of people coming and going and everything was under control.  I headed out east on Hwy 45.  The plan was to take Hwy 45 to Hwy 12, east through Clifty to Hwy 127, north to Hwy 12 where it comes out to Hobbes State Park, Hwy 303 through War Eagle, hook up with Hwy 412 and take that to the north end of Habberton Rd and circle back to the truck.  With some added miles thrown in, I hoped to make it an 80 mile ride.  

A couple of miles down Hwy 45, I came across Rick who was on the other side of the road trying to collect white sheets of paper that had blown out of the trash can he had in the back of the truck.  I pulled over to help him pick them up.  He thanked me and said it wasn't necessary for me to help but I felt it most certainly was.  I asked him if he was one of the school bus drivers.  "No, that's Al Vick.  Lots of people get us confused.  Also, I get confused for a photographer who takes sports team pictures.  I want to get a T-shirt that says, 'I'm not the photographer, I'm not Vick, I'm the cabinet maker, Rick.'"  I thanked him for stopping to make an effort to pick up the papers that flew out as I said it seemed many people would have just kept driving.

It was a beautiful day and, as might be expected, my thoughts were filled with our friend's death and his family.  Riding in the cool of the morning, it was hard to believe that it was supposed to reach the low 80s.  More surprising, was the fact that on Tuesday, the high was only supposed to be in the mid 50s and even lower on Wednesday with very strong winds.  Packing in the miles was going to start to be a challenge.
 

On Hwy 45, after passing the War Eagle River, there is a small cave on the left.  This cave has fond memories for me as I brought David here when he was a toddler.  Not a very special cave and I'm not sure he even enjoyed going in but it was a day of adventure as we drove around stopping at various places to explore.  The cave did not have the gate on it back then and, on closer inspection yesterday, someone had managed to rip out the right portion of the gate so that there was still access.

 No, I did not ride all the way down to Texas.  This building was just up the hill from cave.  I'm not sure if there was a community called Lone star here at one time or not.  I know that there is a fertilizer business a little farther up the road with the name Lone Star. 

The ride was going well, moving smoothly with the bit of the wind that there was in my favor.  I knew that this would change as the day wore on as not only would the wind pick up but my direction would change and it would be in my face.

On this day of thinking of death, followed by three weeks of one death after another, I constantly sought beauty on my ride and I was fortunate to stumble upon it, allow it in over and over.  Starting with the small yellow flower to stopping to help Rick to translating every passing vehicle that gave me elbow room as things of beauty to behold.  The pick up truck that decided not to pass me on a steep downhill was especially beautiful as was the small beat up sedan that passed me, honked a couple of times after it was safely in front of me with the driver raising his hand out the window and waving a big thumbs-up to me. 

Traffic wasn't too bad on Hwy 45 or Hwy 12 but it was a real pleasure to turn on to Hwy 127 which was very quiet.  Up until a few years ago it was still a dirt road.  A couple of miles down, I came across the California Community building.  I was on the look out for California as Dorothy had mentioned it a while back on a ride the Roadies did.  It would have been easy to ride right by the building without noticing I was in California; from Texas to the west coast in less than a half hour, pretty good riding time.

Brother and Sister, Obenshain Family

Off to the left, people were cleaning up from the huge yard sale they had this weekend.  I decided to meander over and talk with them.  

Obenshain clan.  From left to right: Jim's granddaughter, sister, nephew, Jim and sister. 

I mostly talked with Jim and his sister (whose name I didn't get).  I asked about the naming of the community.  Turned out that two Todd brothers, originally from Arkansas, returned from California in 1896 and settled the community.  Trying to come up with a name, they called it California.  The original community building was situated about two miles from the present site on a dirt road.  The current building was built in 1906 and it's the original foundation and the Todd family still lives in the area.

I'm really glad I stopped to spend a few minutes with them and they invited me to take a peek inside the building.

 The back wall struck me in that, except for the English words, I felt I could have been in a community building somewhere in Central or South America.

There was something about the simple elegance of this heater that really appealed to me.  Note the poster on the wall. "Words have a life of their own.  Think Before You Speak."  Those words were rather poignant for me yesterday and today as I struggle with just how much to write about our friend's death.  There is much I would like to say, much I have already written on here and then deleted.  I have decided to err on the side of caution, on regretting later that I said too much.  

I will say that pain is an exceedingly strong force than can be incredibly overwhelming and completely overshadow the love that one has for others and the love that others may have for the individual.  I thought as I rode that it is important for people to follow their hearts as much as possible, to not be afraid to believe in themselves.  To stop and take the time every day to discover some beauty in the world, for it surely is there.  And the hardest thing of all, as cliche as it may be but as true as it surely is...to find a way to find to love one's self every day which is so much easier said than done.

 The ride along Hwy 127 was the highlight of the day going through some very pretty country mostly on a high ridge.  At one point it dipped down into a holler where the barn in the picture above sat with a small house on the other side.  Both seemed to date back to the 1920s or 1930s.  It was easy to picture the two, years ago along a dirt ride and miles from the closest neighbor, winter's cold temperatures dropping and settling in the holler somehow shrouding its existence from the outside world.

Making my way up the hill and eventually to Hwy 12, I was beginning to feel the wind.  Down through the trees on Hwy 303 to War Eagle and then the long climb up with the wonderful view of the War Eagle River below; this is the same river that ran by the cave I mentioned earlier.

Once at the top, I was headed south and straight into the wind on an exposed ridge.  Hwy 412 wasn't much better and the the roar of the passing traffic added to the stress even though it did have a nice wide shoulder. I continued to find beauty in the vehicles that would move into the left lane as they passed me even though staying in the right lane would have presented no danger to me.  Amazing how eyeing the turn signal of a car in my mirror, indicating that they are switching lanes, could bring such a great moment of simple joy.  With only a little over five hours of sleep, I was beginning to feel a bit weary.  Eight miles later, I was glad to get off 412 but I couldn't believe I still had 15 miles to reach the 80 mile mark; I felt so tired which was exacerbated by the wind.  

I kept finding fifth and sixth and seventh winds to keep myself going, working the road to try to avoid direct headwinds for the last 10 miles.  Getting back to the truck never felt better.  

Maybe I'm trying to avoid heading out into the cold but spending over two hours on this post this morning seemed important.

17 October Ride:  6hrs 56mins.  80.04 miles  58°-78°  Miles YTD:  7,516.45

Number of miles per day needed to reach 10,000 miles by the end of the year: 33.11

To see older postings, search the Archives listed on the right had panel.

To see postings before 15 August 2011, please go to www.mylifeasabike2.blogspot.com

To see postings before 11 June 2011, please go to www.mylifeasabike.blogspot.com