Notes Along the Way- Week 13
There's a question I've been carrying lately, somewhere in the back pocket of every long ride: is this enough? Riding teaches me a lot about life and provides deep satisfaction, but I also know there is more to me. I am trying to uncover it all.
Not whether it's worth it — that much is clear. This past week I rode over 100 miles on a route that really called to me, connecting the gravel roads of Bedminster with local trails: Columbia, Landsdown, Capoolong, Delaware and Raritan. Less than a week after the Ronde van White Clay 200K, I rode stronger than I expected. I even managed to fly along the flat sections at a decent clip, which was motivating. And there was beauty to be seen. I did bonk in the final miles, which is never comfortable — but I managed it with something approaching equanimity. Learning to keep going beyond where I thought my strength was is its own kind of education.
A few days later I was back on a challenging gravel route, legs heavy with accumulated fatigue, working on the only thing I could actually control: my mind. Breaking the ride into pieces. Keeping the inner voice civil. Climbing hills that were, I noticed with some surprise, easier than they would have been a year ago — even on tired legs. Progress is like that. It accumulates quietly and then shows up when you're not quite looking. This year I want to push myself toward a different kind of effort: connection. I'm good at hard things when there's a route and a distance. I'm less practiced at the less measurable work of being present with other people — and I think that's worth noticing and working on.
The week ended with a backpacking practice hike with my daughter. We leave for the Smoky Mountains in a few days. There's something about moving through the woods with her right now, at this exact moment in her life. Out on the trail she wants to connect in genuine ways that can get crowded out by the busyness of daily life, where it can be hard to talk about much more than the practical. I am grateful for this time with her. I don't want to analyze it — I just want to be present for it. She's leaving in the fall. Right now I have something as simple and special as hiking boots and packs to keep us here a little longer.
My bike will be there when I get back.
