I just rode to the top of this mountain. On a mountain bike. By myself. And when I say by myself, I mean BY MYSELF. When I got to the saddle about a mile up, the other three riders on the trail went right and I went left. I never saw another soul until I was descending. It was wonderful. Just me and my own grit and a bottle of water. (Don’t discount the importance of that bottle of water because even though I was alone, I still had to justify my “there’s no way I’m going to make it up this hill” as water breaks. )
When I got to the summit, I had twenty-five whole minutes to sit in a cool breeze and observe a bustling city from a distance. You know, Bette Midler talked about this “from a distance” thing and I gotta say, she has a point: from a distance there is harmony, from a distance we all have enough, from a distance you look like my friend…from a distance everything looks pretty great. I do wonder if sometimes it would help us to get our eyes off of the microscope and plant them on a telescope. Pull back, get a wider view, feel a little awed by the enormity of things instead of pressed down by the minutiae. I feel that there is something freeing about big pictures.
At the bottom of the trail I read the rules. Never read the rules before you embark on an adventure-they might detract from your adventure. Rule #5 says, “Never hike or bike alone”….😏 I suppose this is what dogs and friends-with-common-interests are for; but sometimes I like going it alone. I’m feeling pretty satisfied.
(Ok-I admit-if I was lying up there in a bush with a broken leg from missing a hairpin turn, I might wish I had a compadre. Except that’s what cell phones are for. Amen.)