not all those who wander are lost

"NOT ALL THOSE WHO WANDER ARE LOST."
J.R.R. TOLKIEN

KAPAPAMAHCHAKWEW
Cree leader, Wandering Spirit

Thursday, July 21, 2016

MY DAILY BIKE RIDE

POST # 223

There's nothing like my daily morning bike ride here in Port Townsend, and I find I am at my happiest when I am riding.  My friend Dahr was kind enough to leave me with a wonderful bike to ride, and I've taken full advantage of it during my time here.

The weather has cooperated as well.  On most days there is a slight overcast which is great because it keeps the temperature cooler for riding, however this morning it was all sunshine and blue sky.

I roll out of the driveway usually around 9:30am and peddle down the gravel road to the highway.



On some mornings,  the neighbour's dog,  "Tank" is out in the yard so I say good morning to him as I ride on by. But today, Tank was returning from a walk with his owner, as I was coming in from my ride, so I had the opportunity to take a photo.



I enter on to the highway (Hastings Ave) just before mile marker post 4, and I'm on my way.


Soon after my entrance on to Hastings Ave, I pass by a horse boarding farm on my left.





  After I pass the horses and say hello to them, I come to a slight uphill grade, which is a good opportunity to get in the groove, and concentrate on some deep breathing to help power me to the crest of the hill.   This is followed by a coast down to Cape George Road at which point I start heading in an easterly direction towards the beach.





 A little less than two miles along this road and it's time to veer off onto the Larry Scott trail.  I stay on this magnificent tree lined trail all the way to the beach.  Here is a video of part of the trail.

https://vimeo.com/72697552  (the bench I rest at is shown at 2:53 of the video)










Somewhere along the trail, I have made friends with a local furball that comes out to greet me occasionally.  I never know when he's going to be there, but if he shows up, I always take the time to stop.  I appreciate spending a bit of time with him, and I think that he enjoys it as well.  Today, he was a no show.

Continuing on, the trail crosses underneath highway 20, and then it slowly descends the remainder of the way to the seaside.  I have my favourite bench to sit at, and it is here that I take a break, open up a book, and spend about a half hour or so, reading.








 I'm always entertained by the seagulls plucking shellfish from the shore, then flying upwards in a steep trajectory, letting go of their catch, so that it falls back to the earth, and hopefully cracks open, so that they can have a feed.  Sometimes it takes more than one try.  Once they've accomplished their task, they are immediately surrounded by a group of crows, looking for a free lunch.  The typical m/o for the crows is to surround the seagull, with one crow sneaking up from behind to nip at the seagull's tail feathers, which may or may not allow one of his buddies to then jump in and get some of the seafood.  It's always fun to watch, but I don't imagine that the seagull enjoys being ganged up on.  Aside from these feathered friends, there are always plenty of swallows around which nest in the cliff side.  They are wonderful flyers, and it is a pure joy to watch their skill as the dart and weave through the air.

After I've had a snack to eat, and a bit of a read, it's time to once again mount the trusty treadly* and begin my journey home.  The gentle outward bound downhill run to the beach is now reversed, so I get a better work out going home.


A sign by the side of the road on my journey home reminds me that there are still people out there  that think that voting actually makes any difference.





In total,  the round trip journey takes me about an hour on average,  25 minutes outbound and 35 minutes inbound.   A quick stop at the mail box which is located on the highway to check for any mail, then it's back on to the gravel road and home.


The round trip distance is 12 miles, just over 19 kilometers which is 133 kilometers/week.  It's not much but it is every day, so there's something to be said for that. When I road down the west coast from Vancouver to Los Angeles, I averaged about 100 kilometers per day.  However, that was 29 years ago.  The body seems to endure more at the age of 32 than at 61.  I guess the only way to find out if I could ride 100 kilometers/day again, is to give it a try.  I'll have to really think about that.

  Time to cool off now and have a well deserved breakfast, before I continue on with my day, which at the moment still includes some major weeding projects.

*treadly: Australian slang for bicycle


living a life of profound acceptance,

Paul
The Thoughtful Wanderer

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