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OPINION |
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CONNECTING THE DOTS 03-15-2011 Frosty Wooldridge |
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“It is only in
adventure that some people succeed in knowing themselves - in finding
themselves.” André Gide
Riding east on Route 155, we neared
a pass through the Greenhorn Mountains of the Sierras. Flat terrain near Delano, California, gave
way to peaks that cut the sky into wrinkled shapes at the horizon. Wildflowers bloomed along our route, which grew
steeper with every crank of the pedals.
John, Mike, Kevin and I pedaled on a
cross-continent journey. John, hailing from the coastal town of Kiama near
Sydney, Australia, proved a charmer.
His voice and wit had gotten us invited into three families' homes
within the last week. The night before,
we sat in a restaurant devouring the "all-you-can-eat" salad bar,
when a couple overheard John talking about the southern California
climate. Before we knew it, John, who
could be as charming as a Koala bear on one of those airline commercials, had
gotten us invited into Larry and Valerie Johnson's home for the evening. Our hosts couldn't do enough for us, and they
loved to hear about our experiences.
It's as if the price of admission was sharing our lives.
Being invited into complete strangers'
homes may seem awkward, even unheard of by most travelers, but we'd been asked
into peoples' homes often during our tours.
It may be the vulnerability of a bicycle rider. People feel we're honest, sometimes giving
us the keys to their homes and cars.
On one tour, a man stopped me on the
highway and invited me to his home. He
tossed me his house keys before driving off to a ball game. When I arrived at his home a half-hour later,
there were two bags of fruits and vegetables on the table and a note saying,
"Help yourself."
I'm not sure why people think a touring
bicyclist is trustworthy. Maybe they
believe it takes depth of character for someone to pedal a bike for long
distances"that someone who earns every mile with hard work and sweat must be
honest. Anyone with less character would
never tour on a bicycle, because it's not a free ride. It takes guts to pound the pedals mile after
mile, mountain pass after mountain pass.
My legs burn and I'm always hungry.
I'm soaked in sweat and I'm exhausted at the end of the day. It's not for those with weak physical
resolve. Age makes no difference because
I've met men and women in their seventies on world bicycle tours. Attitude creates amazing strength and
resolve!
Being asked into homes also has to do
with a cheery disposition and the sparkle in their eyes as well as my
own. Some folks get a kick out of
living and they can spot it in others.
They enjoy connecting with another life-force person who returns the
energy. For that and other reasons, I've
enjoyed many memorable evenings in peoples' homes around the world.
But that day, the heat and the climb had
exhausted me. John climbed with
ferocious power. Mike stayed with
him. Kevin and I followed them. From flats to hills to bigger hills to
mountains! I pushed my bicycle into the
Sierras. By the afternoon, I had
climbed 1,000, 2,000, 3,000 and was headed for 4,000 feet. Even with my 24 to 34 gearing, (number of
teeth on the chain ring and freewheel) my legs took a beating.
The constant power strokes with no rest
kept my muscles pumped and full of lactic acid. Kevin wasn't faring much better. The grade
caused me to sweat profusely so I stopped to drink often. Each time, the cool afternoon air-dried me
quickly. Minutes later, more sweat moistened the dried salt. Passing cars threw dust on me, which locked
onto the sweat. At the next water stop,
it dried again, leaving me feeling like a mud covered dirt ball.
When I reached 5,000 feet, darkness
crept over the mountains. A gray mist
slipped down from the summit, cutting visibility. By that time, we labored through tighter
curves that hugged the mountainside. I
was ready to call it quits.
"John is probably at the top of the
pass right now," I grumbled.
"I wouldn't doubt it," he
said.
"It's another 1,000 feet, but we'll
have to do it in the dark for the next half hour," I said. "I'm blown
out right now. You wanna' keep riding?"
"My knee is acting up,"
Kevin said. "But I can do another fifteen minutes."
Kevin and I slipped our feet into the toe-clips
and shoved our bikes into motion. We
continued upward into the mist. Sweat
soaked my shirt. A few minutes later, a
car passed us going downhill. I didn't
think much of it until the car swung around and slowed beside us. The electric window slipped down.
"Good evening, mates,"
John Brown said. "How would you boys like a nice hot shower and dinner
compliments of my new friend Ross?!"
"Only if you promise never to drag
me up a mountain again," I said.
"But you wouldn't be getting a
hot shower," John said. "So why
would you be upset?"
"Because you dragged us up this
mountain all day and I'm gonna' die," I said.
"If we hadn't gotten this far, we
wouldn't have met Ross and his nice shower,” John said.
"You're right, John," Kevin
broke in. "We'll just bend your spokes after the shower!"
"Fair enough, boys," John
said. "Follow me another mile."
"All the hot water you want,
too," Ross said from the far side of the car.
"I'm gonna live for it," I
said as my body continued lathering up with mud-laden sweat.
Ross and John drove away. I felt weary and caked with dust, but the
thought of a hot shower kept me going. I
dreamed about it as I pedaled the last mile up the dark, winding highway. Even though I was tired, that single thought
kept me going. It seemed to make the
next fifteen minutes go faster, because I was feeling the soothing, hot
droplets massage my skin. The cranking
seemed easier. Kevin started talking
about the shower. Sweating like two
horses and steaming in the cool night air, we reached the guest ranch sign
John had mentioned.
Ross operated a summer kid's
ranch. He gave us kitchen
privileges. He led us to a row of six
shower heads.
"Plenty of hot water," he
said.
"God," I said, “is going
to give you an A."
John, Kevin, Mike and I slipped off our
shoes and walked into the showers.
After adjusting the temperature, we walked under them with our socks,
shorts, shirts and gloves on. I've never
heard so much groaning and laughing.
Everyone soaped up.
Hot water steamed over my aching
muscles. As the first rush of water
doused my head, it cascaded over my face and streamed down my shoulders. I tore off my shirt and slapped it down on
the tile. I peeled off my socks and
shorts. The water ran down my body in
waves, taking away the dirt and grime.
Soothing steam filled my nostrils.
I grabbed a bar of soap and lathered up my hair.
The soap and water did more than
clean me. The whole day's hardship
vanished in moments. I was in the middle
of one of the greatest showers of my life.
I had felt so worn out coming up the mountain, but now I felt tingling
in every cell. As I stood there, transformed in the spray, I became aware of
my friends' shouts at our good fortune of having this hot shower at the end
of a tough day. From those gut-busting
power cranks on the pedals, to this ecstasy.
As I stood there, I thought about my
good fortune.
We enjoy 70-80 years to fill up our
lives, and I want to fill them up with the voluptuousness of living.
Especially on a touring bicycle!
It is being aware of pain, of joy, of potential within myself"of being
excited for every leaf on a tree as it flutters in the wind, or watching a
hawk rip down from the sky to grab a mouse, or the delight of discovering a
ladybug landing on my leg in the early spring, or gazing upon a mountain as it
pierces the clouds.
It leads me to a kind of rage too, which
is the blood sister of love"because the people of this world make it a charming,
insane, exciting and confusing place. I
want to maintain the ability to deal with them, with my mind, and spirit"at
full bore. To see is to know, and to
know is to fall in love with what is known.
WHAT'S THIS?!? My shower just turned cold. The hot water ran out. I jumped back. The cold water shocked my skin. My four friends and I headed for the
towels. We dried our bodies and
gathered our belongings. Dinner awaited!
The next day, we loaded our bikes
with food and water. Within seconds, sweat glistened on our bodies. Was it a lot of hard work? Not really!
We pedaled into another glorious day of
adventure across America on two wheels.
Have I made the right choice? Is it worth the agony and sweat of climbing a 6,000-foot pass or one at 15,500 feet through a blizzard in Bolivia? You betcha! I want to fill up my life with living. Even when I'm home working a five-day week, I make every day a positive experience. Daily life is an adventure. Weekends are a grand adventure. Each sustains the balance. One
night while sitting around a campfire, John and I, both being teachers,
invented the ABC Concept. It fit our philosophies
for happy living. The message is a
simple attitude that anyone can choose to follow. With any life activity, a person can
"go for it" and enjoy it before/during/after. That's the strategy of the ABC concept:
A.
AIM"Take aim on life like Terry Fox who had cancer and ran on one leg across
Canada to attract attention to the disease before he died. Fight for what you believe in like David
Brower or John Muir when they brought their environmental message to Americans
long before it was in vogue. Diane
Fossey tried to save the gorillas. Ann Kanabe rode her bicycle from the top of
North America to the bottom of South America. Anyone with a passion can work
toward fulfilling his or her dream.
B.
BUOYANCY"Keep buoyant in the troubled waters of living. Maintain motivation
with a positive attitude. Keep light
hearted against heavy odds. Lightness
travels well and long. Bob Wieland, walking
across America on his hands, epitomizes buoyancy. He didn't stop at that success, either. Later, he completed the Boston Marathon and
the Ironman Triathlon in Hawaii.
C. CELEBRATE"Jump up and shout about
being alive. Celebrate life! Don't be
afraid to be counted. Show your energy and
excitement. Jump into a cold stream when
you want a bath. Laugh at the hill you are about to climb. Remember that riding through the mountains
is like a dance. Let the mountain lead
and you follow. Blow up that special
photograph and hang it on your wall.
Relish your excitement. Reach
beyond your boundaries. Finally, you need not be afraid of failing, for that
fear can prevent you from ever being fully alive. Failure can lead to success if you never
give up.
“The
secret of health for both mind and body is not to mourn for the past, not to
worry about the future, or not to anticipate troubles, but to live in the
present moment wisely and earnestly.” Buddha
KEY POINTS FROM
THIS CHAPTER
1. Always keep a
positive attitude and cheerful disposition; it will take you further.
2. Always write
down your thoughts and ideas on your notebook when they occur.
3. The harder the
climb, the greater the reward mentally, physically, spiritually.
Excerpt from: How to Live a Life of Adventure: The Art of Exploring the World by Frosty Wooldridge, publishes May 2011. www.frostywooldridge.com
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