sweat and tyres at the end of the county road
Today I went cycling through a cathedral of green — soaring redwoods, mossy embankments, fern-cloaked hillside. Sun spidered its way in, dancing on motes and slipping across puddles. Steam curled upwards like incense; a tributary tumbled towards the unseen river, gurgling a liturgy only it knows the meaning of. I passed stumps as tall as I was — sombre memorials to long-gone giants.
I crossed a bridge, venturing beyond the “END OF COUNTY ROAD” sign to a gate where signs warned against trespassing. Turning around I discovered my rear tyre had gone flat. It’s a leap of faith (and of foolishness) to ride along roads as rugged as this one with neither pump nor puncture repair kit. Consider this the Sunday I got schooled.
As I reached a break in the trees, a solitary bar of LTE appeared on my phone, then vanished — replaced by the all-too-familiar “NO SERVICE” before I could summon my guardian angel to come fetch me. The river was the colour of midcentury bathroom tiles or a peppermint milkshake, gracefully languid as it curled round a bend. I took one last glance at it before continuing to push my bike towards home.
THIS WEEK’S FACTS AND FIGURES
Total distance: A rather meagre 54 (km) | ~33.55 (mi)
Number of rides: 3
Oddest sighting: A severed hoof (which formerly belonged to a wild pig, I think)
Song stuck in my head: “When I’m Gone”
Percentage of fundraising target raised: 69%
Time left till AIDS/Lifecycle: 21 weeks