CYCLING ON SUNSHINE

 CYCLING ON SUNSHINE

Today was the long awaited cycle trip with a person I met a few weeks back — someone local, looking for someone local with whom she could easily cycle and socialize.  Well — cycle and socialize we definitely did.

The meeting place was none other than my favourite Maple Ridge brunch café, Humble Roots, where we both enjoyed a Veggie Benny and much appreciated ice water on this very hot summer day.

We talked to each other for quite some time before, during and after the meal and, in the end, a forlorn cyclist leaned over the outside railing asking if either one of us had a cycling repair kit.  He had just ridden over some glass and a piece punctured his tire.

Sherry expresses her sympathies and says she didn’t have such tools with her. I looked at him, surprising myself, and said: Actually, I am pretty sure I do have an emergency repair kit. I directed him to my bicycle and told him to open the saddle bag on the right;  therein he would find a plastic baggie with what may well be exactly what he needs.

I turned to watch him and see him rummaging through my front basket.  I called out to him to repeat the directive and he said: oh yes, yes, you did say that didn’t you! He was clearly flustered to find a woman with a bicycle repair kit and embarrassed that he didn’t have one !

He brings over the baggie, opens it and sees exactly what he needs — the patch and some sandpaper.  Off he went to do the fix. By the time he was nearly finished, Sherry and I said in unison: Maybe we should go over and watch him! Neither one of us had ever engaged in such a task.  When we got to him, he had basically finished; but, he did very willingly go over the process with us — I don’t really think either one of us can remember his explanation because neither one of us would actually do such an onerous task … we would just call BCAA because they provide bicycle road service.

He is going to buy us a coffee the next time our paths cross. We say our farewells and mount our bicycles.

Sherry lives in that part of Maple Ridge and is more familiar with the cycling options. She led the way north towards the mountains and then west towards what looked like a horse trail on land once owned by her family.  The trail led to an overpass towering over a swim hole where she used to enjoy playing as a kid. She would ride her horse there and once the horse was good and wet, she would slide off its body and into the water. 

Onward we cycled to the backside of the equestrian training centre which is on city land also once owned by her family.

We continued on along the rocky dike pathway to a road called Neaves. We stopped for a break and some talk about the nearby mountains and peaks, only partially visible due to the forest fire smoke moving its way to the coast.

We carefully cycled along Neaves to the next crossing over the Alouette slough, and veered to the right on to the dyke path just far enough to enjoy some much needed shade along side a majestic oak tree.  We sat on the very dry grass and engaged in more interesting talk about reading and writing, travelling and other personal things.

It was there that I told her about a poem I had written a few days ago correlating the life of a tree with the life of a human … a tree has but one life and stands tall and proud; it branches out to embrace what’s around it;  one branch does not depend on any other; you can take one or more away, and the tree still stands and continues to grow. 

Humans have but one life and should strive to also stand tall and proud, and branch out to embrace the opportunities around them. When one or more ‘branch’ breaks or gets taken away, all is not lost. Our core lives on, our resolve recovers, and continues to keep us strong. 

Now that I think about it some more, the crux of this poem might have come to me from my aquaYoga classes which include mountain and tree poses. I don’t always catch on right away when it comes to correlations;  I know I never did in my youth. Metaphors were silly and odd back then.  I can feel my often disappointed English teacher spring up in her grave wondering what’s happened to me!  I’m beginning to talk like her. I think I finally made her crack a smile! Namasté. 

It’s time to cycle on...

Sherry and I remounted our bicycles and cycled on along the dyke path eastbound, chatting side by side, up to our point of separation where she turned east and I turned west to get back to our respective homes.

It feels incredibly wonderful to have finally found someone local to cycle with and to talk with, outside, in the fresh, clean air, like well nurtured, self-standing trees in the forest — at peace and just happy to be confidently tall, each celebrating one more branch on our tree of life, as our gifted lives continue to grow like any one of the tall standing trees that we all too often ignore or take for granted. 

We have but one life to live and this one is dancing on sunshine. 🎼 🎼