Ride

I sat drinking a large glass of coffee, I got to thinking why do I ride my bike? I thought back over my mornings ride. I had ridden for over four hours. Out to visit a friend and then back home via a old hill road. The road has a reputation of being the steepest road in my district. True it is steep but that is not what draws me to it. The road winds its way up through native bush . Bush that towers above you and falls away into steep sharp gullies. There is no traffic ever on this road so you can hear the stream rumbling its way down hill far below the road.
This morning it was cold and still, mist hung in the valleys encasing the trees giving them an airy appearance with their midsections disappearing into a white void. Water dripped from the branches lit by the sun and splashed onto the road, that in turn goes from dry to wet and back again . I rode in and out of gloomy corners that wont see the sun all day and the frosty chill hit me in the face making my eyes water uncontrollably. Birds sing above me and occasionally they fly startled by my sudden appearance.

This is why I ride my bike, I could have taken my car and halved my time. I would have missed this world that I accessed by my physical effort, Is  it the action of  working hard to enjoy a return? This is some how hard wired into my Psyche,  for as long as I can remember this has been one of the most simple pleasures I know.