Summer has been a slow process, and the bikes have had to be patient, waiting out the hours as the days stretched into long weeks plagued by heat, humidity and lethargy. The damaged arm is taking it's good old time healing and, like the virus stalking us on all sides as we duck and cover behind masks and social distancing, it has forced me into a "new normal" of barely satisfactorily short times spent on the roads turning the pedals under my feet while I await the day when the "old normal" and a healed arm returns with long lingering rides in the cool fall air.
I was lucky enough yesterday morning to slip past unnoticed by the advancing 90 degree heat to take advantage of a cooler hour to reveal in 23 miles of cycling bliss. I was not alone, it seemed, if evidence of the many flights of cyclists, in big groups of 20 or more, down to the solitary rider out on his own, passed by me sharing smiles and waves at our good fortune to have a beautiful, cool morning inviting us, with eager bikes under us, and friendly courteous country roads with an overabundance of spectacular mountain and pasture land views surrounding us to share with one another.
It was a great morning to be out on a bike.
The gravel roads, having been pressed into pristine flat perfection by the combined efforts of softening rains, harsh drying sun, and the numerous car tires ironing the fabric of rock and dirt into a pleasingly fast road surface without the permanence of blacktop pavement, meant a delightful ride on these often temperamental county byways. One did have to dodge the random yet determined washboarding scattered intermittently here and there along the gravel travel lanes, but that didn't deter my speed too much. I simply had to keep a sharper eye out for those detractions as I made my way south towards the quicker paved roads of the lower county.
I was, after all, attempting to outrun the inevitable advance of today's forecast, and the pervasiveness of climate change, to not be caught out on the roads when it got hot and muggy. I also had a limited window of time that the healing rotator cuff in my arm would tolerate without undue complaint the stretched arm position typical for my bike's topography.
Hence, the balance of miles, speed, and timing meant the Vado's turbo assist was employed as my first and best option for the most enjoyable of bike rides. The scenery did move faster, but this route was an old friend that didn't require the pleasantries of going slow and stopping frequently for photographs. The view had remained the same over the summer months, the greenery waning and waxing with the volume of rain the skies delivered, the trees ever deep in leafy green thoughts while the mountains toyed with the puffy white clouds overhead letting the winds blow, or not blow, as they wished. Even the cows retained their perennially stoic places lying under the cooling shade of a tight grouping of trees at the junction of two roads, watching me to see each time if I would turn one way to head back home, or turn another to extend my ride. Only the corn changed. I noticed it was standing higher now, well over my head. It, and the fall wildflowers suddenly blooming roadside and in the fields, were the only indication of the passage of time as the year began contemplation of its demise into the history books in a scant few months. So I let the wind whistle in my ears, co-mingling with the music being pumped into my Bluetooth headset, as I encouraged my very willing bike to fly over the tarmac at a speed that was easy for an electric bike, and much to my liking.
It would appear that the vast majority of cyclists were out enjoying my local roads while I took advantage of the sparcely traveled roads in the lower county. It was all well and good. I like my solitary ramblings. It gives me a quiet time to explore the vast, endless, and oftentimes amusing philosophical and scientific library in my head while physically emersed in the beauty and serenity of the real world passing by at 20+ miles per hour.
It becomes my happy place. A fast bike, a fresh morning, and an open road. And all the amusing antics my mind is happy to entertain me with as I roll along. A hundred miles south of me my old riding friend was doing the same with her Vado. Closer to home my cycling neighbor, having bowed out of a bike ride with me this morning because she had just gotten back to her barn after riding her horse for an hour when it was even cooler, was now cleaning her horse and tack before heading into her house, hot and sweaty as she would text me later. Not a drop of sweat would cross my brow for my entire ride. It wasn't until I reached home and pulled up to my garage to dismount that the heat and humidity, which had been waiting impatiently for my return, accosted me with all the wretched enthusiasm of a unwanted, disliked, and much avoided guest. In that short expanse of time between putting my bike away and escaping into the house, I was completely drenched in sweat.
That ebike smile, however, never wavered. Any time spent on a bike is time well appreciated.
And as the arm returns to full strength, so will the miles. Something to look forward to as the hot and unpleasant Summer wanes and a more temperate Autumn arrives for a few months stay.
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