This post is from series I have been writing for myself called, Truth, Beauty, or Goodness.
We slept on air mattresses on the floor of a church the night before the big launch. When we got up the air was verging on cold and was crisp. We drove the last hour to our starting point, pulled the bikes from the truck and began to turn the cranks. Over the course of the next three days, the pedals would roll over enough to cover 150 miles.
I have heard that many philosophers didn’t like trains when they first appeared because they moved too fast. The world has turned over many times since trains were first introduced and we have only gotten faster. In the hours we spent in the saddles of our bikes covering dozens of miles, we could have traveled hundreds in a car.
Instead, we paused and joined the thinkers of the past. We slowed our pace and saw the world from a closer point of view. It allowed us to join the effort of the earth’s existence. We found a new rhythm in our breathing. We discovered the honesty of laughter born from mutual suffering. The heart of those hours was the discovery of people and the stories they offer.
It was in the saddle a bike, legs pushed to their limit, mind worn from the effort, constant hunger from the calorie deficit, I was reminded of the depth of humanity. We are a single people struggling together, hoping for a pause in our suffering, yet finding joy in the common. The best we can do is reach out and offer what strength we have to help pull along old and new friends alike.