Hold Tight To Local Adventures

It's funny how wild imaginations of grand adventure can sometimes interfere with so much opportunity that is already in our hands.  As soon as we see what others in other places are doing, we think perhaps they are living a life more fulfilling than our own.  Their videos and photographs are compelling.  Their stories sound so enticing.  So we seek those experiences for ourselves.  We imagine visiting the places they've been, seeing the vistas, riding the routes, camping in wild places, and overcoming the challenges.  We'll come back with our own amazing stories, we say.  We lay aside what we previously held as precious so we can pursue the vision in our imagination.

We prepare, and we plan.  Our current gear will not suffice.  The grand adventures of our imagination require bicycles, camping gear, clothing, and what-nots that are not required for our local pleasures.  So we sell off a few things to help fund and equip this rare objective.  We are unfamiliar with those distant places, and spend our free time reading travel accounts, learning new skills, and scrutinizing maps.  The logistics required to make the most of what the imagination promises takes significant time.  It is time invested well, we say.  Look at what we'll be able to do!  Those hours of free time once used for local exploration, and making homegrown adventures is lost to something beyond.  Suddenly, we find ourselves unprepared and unable to do what once came so naturally, and brought so much joy.

Sometimes our lofty dreams create a context that is unrealistic and intangible.  Most of us do not have the gumption to completely upend our lives.  Those who do, will create a new context.  For the rest of us, maybe we should not lose sight of our current sense of our place, our current commitments, and how we live our lives.  We should think, perhaps, in terms of anchoring our bicycle adventures within the practical limits of our situation.  The wisest investment is there.  If those grand adventures come our way, so much the better.  But let us never let go of the precious gifts that we already have for those temporal, unsustainable visions...how ever enticing.

To Be Outside

My reason for the bicycle has come full circle.  As best I can remember, the beginning was all about play.  The bicycle took the natural freedom of the outdoors and magnified it tremendously.  Even in my teen years, it was a sort of escape from the chaos of life into the quieter places outside.

As an adult, I wandered into a more commonly recognized reason for adults on a bicycle.  For years, I pursued athletic achievements.  I worked on going faster and longer, and monitored my performance improvements.  I dabbled in racing to test my abilities against others.  I trained.  In the winter, I trained indoors, staring at walls as sweat poured off onto the floor.  The bicycle was about sport and accomplishment.  Seeing the progress was addictive, and exploring and expanding personal limits was the goal.  It was a goal that required focus, energy, dedication, and commitment.  It had become work.

Somehow, life steered me back.  Maybe it was family needs, spiritual insight, or simply an aging body.  But I had found my limit.  I simply didn't want to work at cycling any longer.  It was sad and frightening to think about letting go of something that had consumed an investment of so much time and energy.  I figured something very precious to me was lost.  Then, without consciously thinking about it, I climbed on a bicycle and rode circles in front of my house.

I rode slow, meandering, circles just to be outside.  It was a kind of meditative movement.  Without realizing why, a sense of freedom began to grow.  I had escaped from the chaos of not only life, but achievement cycling.  It was about play again, and it was about seeking those quieter places outside.  It happened more than ten years ago.

These days, it most definitely isn't work.  Often the bicycle is for camping, exploring, picnics, or a cup of coffee.  Always, it is to be outside.

Accidental Improvements

I was surprised recently.  After proclaiming this bike completely "dialed in", I made an unintentional refinement that made it "even more dialed in".  I thought the new brakes, lower gearing, and tires were spot on perfect, but evidently not.

A simple rear rack change resulted in an accidental, yet significant, fit improvement.  On a whim, I replaced my Ocean Air Cycles Erlen Bag Support with one of the lighter Nitto rear racks.  I just wanted to see how well the Nitto rack would work, as compared to the Erlen.  Stubbornly, I kept abusing the Erlen with too much load, and not enough rear tire clearance.  It turns out the Nitto rack works great, and that itself worked out better than expected.  But the biggest benefit wasn't even intended.

Removal of the Erlen requires temporary removal of the saddle.  When I reinstalled the saddle, apparently it ended up slightly farther forward.  That accidental "error" resulted in other charges for the better.  First, I moved the bars slightly lower to accommodate the shorter "reach".  Second, it feels like I'm in a stronger pedaling position.  Finally, both of these refinements together make me feel more balanced fore/aft, and even more important than anything, more comfortable.  So I feel more efficient and more comfortable by pure accident.

Since I'm guessing some "accidental impacts" can be negative, I am now terrified to change anything on this bike.  Do you think it would be okay to oil my chain?

Pondering Toward Simplicity

A special day in the Frederick watershed

Sometimes while exploring a trail, it will disappear.  In the beginning, it is well-defined, has clear direction, and the explorer pursues it with hopeful anticipation.  Initially, the rewards are tangible and pleasurable.  After a while, however, the path becomes obscured.  The way is more complex, and following it feels like work.  It doesn't pay what it promised.  With persistence, the trail fades to nothing, or immediately dead ends.  Then it is time to backtrack.

A special day riding with friends on a 25 yr old MTB reminds me that what is true of trails is true of so many other things in life.  Material goods and technology (to name a couple of examples) become a tangle of briars.  This old, simple bicycle does not limit, or interfere with, the pleasure on this day.  On the other hand, time spent pursuing equipment upgrades is time not spent riding with friends.

Social media seems similar.  Instagram, like a fresh new single track into the woods, began so well.  It has allowed me to meet several great people.  But I have begun to feel its tangled vines slow me down.  So here I am on an my old blog platform, pondering old bikes, and simpler ways.

New Pasture

I guess I ran into the fence line here, so it's time to make other arrangements. It's inconvenient that this occurs as I'm trying to get a post up about this year's Ramble, but it's not like climbing those steep gravel pitches into a headwind with only one gear and dust in my eyes. Since last Saturday, I think some of you now have a fond appreciation for my refreshing prairie headwinds.

Future posts to Pondero can be found here...

http://pawndero.wordpress.com/

I hope to see you on the other side of the fence...

-Pondero

Let's Ramble

Let's ramble!

I won't mislead you. I'm a little nervous about this year's event. Preparations have been a little more challenging this year. The unreliability of the Rosston General Store as a refreshment stop, and the infiltration of the oil and gas industry on some of our more "pristine" areas prompted a route change. I ended up with two alternate routes in hopes of minimizing a long headwind finish. Then I persuaded "GravelDoc" to make the trip down from Missouri to join the ride. Finally, if everyone that sent me a note actually comes, we will have our biggest Ramble ever. So, yes, I'm nervous. Expectations might be higher than ever. I hope my guests enjoy themselves.

The current weather forecast for Saturday indicates cool temperatures, only a slight chance for rain, and WSW wind.  If this holds, we'll take the Greenwood Loop route. That should make for a pleasant stop at the Greenwood Grocery and Grill. If the wind shifts to the north, we'll likely head for Gainesville.

It's almost Saturday.  So pack those bags with snacks, cameras, and a relaxed perspective, come up to my little place on the north Texas prairie, and join your friends in a pleasant rural ramble.

Melancholy, Meditation, and Medicine

A little before sunset, I set out for a couple of  hours. Sometimes I ride when I don't know what else to do. When life becomes difficult, I find that the rhythm of turning cranks and removing other sources of outside stimulus helps the meditation process. I have learned that pedaling can often be good medicine.

I lost my father-in-law yesterday. His three children lost their father. His wife lost a husband, and many people lost a wonderful friend. I share in the collective grief, and I hurt for all of them. But in addition to that, I have my own sense of loss. I remember meeting him the first time my wife (before we were married) brought me home to meet her parents.  I can only imagine what he must have thought of such an immature kid with his eldest daughter. But he always treated me like I was special.

He was truly like a second dad for me.  He was always patient, warm, hospitable, and in spite of my profound clumsiness, included me in his activities. I've spent many hours in his shop with him helping him build airplanes. It would have been more efficient for him to do things himself, but he took the time to teach me how to do things so I could be a part of his world.  He made me feel like I was useful to him, and when we talked about more serious matters, he made me feel like I was making good decisions. Is there anything better for a man than this kind of affirmation?

I can only hope he knows how much I appreciate the gift of his daughter, that I've done my best to take good care of her, and that I loved him dearly.

So I rode tonight with my one gear a good deal of time into a 20+mph headwind. But when your heart hurts this much, you can't feel your legs.