With 48 kms completed of Day one under our belts…or knees…in my case…our second day of pedalling was a little different. Perhaps a little more relaxed, or perhaps I was unwinding even more? Strange thing to say when the day consisted of riding uphill for almost all of the day on a gravel track that sucked up knee power as much as the climb did. But discounting the downside was the scenery and the peacefulness of the ride.
Today’s trail took us through amazing countryside of lush green fields filled with endless sheep and lambs, snow kissed mountains in the distances, gorges and tunnels through those mountains, and of course, as you would somehow expect to see in New Zealand, more green paddocks and sheep. The sky was blue, the sun was high and although a little chilly (12 degrees @ midday), it all culminated in a scenic peaceful ride.
The fields were hemmed by mountains and hills, remnants of when long-ago the sea floor was pushed violently into the air by Teutonic plates crashing together. Subsequent erosion leaving jagged rocky outcrops and tors cleaved by deep gorges with rocky unclimbable sides. The builders of the railway, and thus the builders of the foundation of the rail trail, had to contend with this terrain but it took viaducts and bridges and dynamite-blasted tunnels to create a path through this countryside. And we were able to benefit from it by riding our bicycles up gentle (but VERY LONG) gradients.
Experiencing compost toilets along the way, all interwoven with nature did assist the female who at times needed to go…. but even these were unlike anything I had seen before! Riding over suspension and Trestle bridges where your rear end was definitely shaken rattled and rolled by the corrugations created by the railway sleepers…. And unquestionably “all shook up” took on a whole new meaning. Of course, entering a number of dark tunnels through the mountains was also another exciting feature on this trail. Dismounting (as directed) and entering the first dark cavernous mouth, darkness surrounded you completely, there were no reflectors, no lights. Just you and your bike walking silently companiable along together. The tunnel rounded a bend and as I walked, you could certainly imagine that historic train slowing down in the dark, breathing smoke and fire as it slowly rounded the curve. Marc of course blazed the trail ahead for me, being the macho man that he was, but remarked at the end of this underpass, “it was extremely dark”. He actually forgot to take his sunglasses off! (No wonder it was dark!).
Cycling on a rail trail is actually a fantastic way to explore any countryside being they are former railway lines that have been converted into bike paths, generally flat and easy to ride, making them ideal for cyclists of all ages and abilities. Well not quite flat as today’s trail took us almost to the highest peak 600 metres. Now we know that trains don’t go up hills like cars do, but there are still inclines and rises they have to chug through and over, and the same goes for the bikes.
As I was riding this section today, the phrase “I think I can, I think I can” from “The Little Engine that Could” children’ story book, came to mind. The narrative goes, that despite the steep climb and heavy load, the little engine slowly succeeds in pulling the bigger train over the mountain while repeating the motto: “I-think-I-can”. That little engine story is about teaching children the value of optimism and hard work. He thought he could make it up the hill…and he did….and guess what…so did I! To then culminate our trail ride by settling back in a small town of approximately 100 people…”Far from the madding Crowd” as the saying goes, with wine and a cheese platter for dinner.
I guess the key to the therapeutic qualities of cycling is its inherent mindfulness. Focusing on the physical and engaging mind and body purely on riding can take me away from negative, swirling thoughts, which take on such greater and troubling significance when I obsess over them. But once into my rhythm on the trail, the gravel, the dirt and dust, the bridges, my only thoughts are with each pedal stroke, how hard I can push myself and my speed as I cut through the air.
As I connected with nature today and headed off into the fresh air and be with my thoughts, letting my legs do the work, allowed me a little while to escape from my ‘other life’ – the multi-tasking and my grieving ‘other life’. To breathe a little better.
Have I forgotten my last few weeks personal and work related quandaries amidst all this nature ?Oh, most definitely not!
I am still grieving so much over my beautiful dog, Aslan’s, unexpected death. I see him in my dreams, in reality on the photos on my phone. I am still waiting for those highly anticipated daily videos of my puppy, Prince, from Heidi, to check on his own grieving and is he going ok? Yes, I am still watching the work emails, arranging admin rosters for staff who inform me they are going to be away and preparing contracts for potential new staff that need to be submitted in a days’ time! But like the little train who uttered, “I think I can”, I am just taking one step at a time. I am taking that hill climb and pulling my engine through this natural beauty and mental downtime upwards.
Life isn’t always wonderful and perfect. Troubles difficulties, problems, and those rigid brick walls can appear seemingly out of nowhere, and you never know what the future holds. But being optimistic, taking small steps, can help you find the courage and confidence you need to keep going.
For me, that is all I can do for today.