Saturday, March 28, 2009

Oh glorious riding

Oh I love this. I love this riding. I love this open land. I love the quiet and the noise and the conversation with my little team of four. I love the routine of arranging my two bags of my belongings and organizing my clothes for the next day and going to sleep listening to music and waking up, putting on the clothes that I laid out. I like having breakfast and getting the notes for the day's ride and planning where to stop and what to do and it is all just so simple and easy that it is just the most perfect thing.

We're in Western Texas, a land unto itself. Our geologist tells us all that we're looking at, tales of ancient oceans coming in and going out. Lava flows and plate movements. Erosion and sedimentation. We ride, watch, ask, learn.

This is a simple and good thing to get to do. I check in a little bit, trust that the gang at Laurey's means it when they tell me they are good too. We miss each other but I'll be back after awhile and we'll all see how it will go at that point.

In the meantime, my life is about this life. This very present time. Susan, a new friend on the ride, talks about that with me. No worry. No planning. Nothing but right now. And who's to say that is something that can only be done here? Not me.

When the riding gets really hard we remind ourselves of how lucky we are to be healthy enough to be here. We are. Healthy and lucky. And I am happy. Thrilled. Full. Amazed.

Tomorrow will be a big day. Everyone is nervous. Me too, sort of. But, well, it will be what it will be. Then. Not now. Now is now. And tomorrow will be fine too. 111 miles. One pedal stroke at a time. I'll let you know how it turns out.



sasper said...

Hey your blog and facebook every day, and am continuing to be in awe...

One of my ex-students died on his 18th birthday on Tuesday. I was on a bike ride in Vermont when he was first diagnosed with a horrific kind of cancer and he asked that I come right away because he had been my teacher's assistant in the 8th grade and he knew about my cancer and I was fond of him and he knew it.

He went through the worst treatment I had ever seen...and he was alternately brave and cranky, but he did it..well.

Last year he and his mother went to Maui which he loved...and to surf which he loved, and to his brothers who he loved. He went there to find peace and safety.

Lucas found it for awhile, and then it returned.He turned down chemo, turned down clinical trials that were offered him, and died in his Maui on his 18th birthday.

No one should have to make these decisions at 17. No one should be in that kind of pain at 17, and no one should die on their 18th birthday.

What you are doing, whether it's for a certain kind of cancer or not, IS in the end, for EVERY kind of cancer, and perhaps ...maybe the near future, no other great kid will die on their 18th birthday....

Anonymous said...

laurey, you will find life after doing this ride might translate into your everyday goings. i came home from my cross country wanting less of everything and a simple way to live. to this day i strive every day to get less and less to be better and better. 2 bags and a bike is a good thing. reba