Thursday, December 15, 2011

Smiling Cyclists

Today as I peddled home beneath Thor's Mighty Mountains of vaporous silver light and dense black thunderheads, I felt an odd euphoria. With all that weather up above there must have been a lot of negative ions in the air. I slowed my pace and sat back on my saddle with arms outstretched just feeling the air flowing across my arms, as the breeze blew through my fingers my hands caught enough to pull my arms slightly back behind me, up above clouds expanding shining and full of power. 
It's funny the joys of cycling. 
I remember how as a motorcyclist I had joined a fraternity of Riders. We were set apart from the drones who sit dumb behind the wheels of their automobiles! Trapped in steel cages! We lived closer to the road, closer to the trees and rocky verge. We were with the sky, in the rain and the sun and closer to danger and life. On a motorbike you get to contemplate the fragility of life, instant by instant and you get to really appreciate the beauty of movement and those times when it's all flowing in perfect time! I can remember that once out of the town riders would usually acknowledge each other on the open road.

Cycling is sometimes like that! Just like AB Patterson's Drover, 'The cyclists life has pleasures that the car-slaves never know.'

Rolling up to that set of lights that usually catches 3 or 4 of us like a fishing net, holding us for a while while the cars roar past and we catch our breath before the next push headed for home. Sometimes I see familiar faces and sometimes there's people I haven't seen caught there before. We wait for the lights to change. Some riders won't make eye contact, they're on a mission and possibly take no pleasure in their ride home. Maybe they're concerned about their fitness level, or something. But mostly the riders waiting will glance at each other and give a smile or a nod. Today was kind of magic like that. For some reason everyone I came across gave a great grin! As if we could all feel the awesome energy that surrounded us! Or maybe some of us were just glad that the ominous thunderhead wasn't quite ready to dump on us. It the path home was abuzz though. As I crossed that road a bloke on an old postie bike came shuffling up to the lights... he was dragging his feet up to the white line and beaming at me happily! I chuckled and then I laughed! Sometimes it's like that On The Road!

As I got closer to home I felt that amazing coolness of the dark thunderclouds that were now all around me. Not the rush of cold air that comes flooding in with a thunder storm, just the coolness on the skin, a reprieve from the heat. The cloud didn't open up on us, it just slowed on it's path across a bitumen patchwork shimmering heat and combustion engines. Enough to remind all riders, we are blessed!


Gillo said...

What pure poetry David! You make riding a bike sound like heaven on wheels. G

David J said...

LOL... Yeh.