Connections

Day 19. Cranbrook to Fernie. 73 miles. 3902 feet elevation. Weather: some sprinkles.

Coming up at the end of the third week, riding alone, it should not be too surprising that I spend a fair amount of time talking to myself. Thankfully, I’ve not heard anybody speaking back to me, and Gumby continues to smile but remains mute. In many ways, I believe our ability to be alone is a measure of our own self-perspective. In other words, being comfortable with oneself should speak well for oneself. Of course, my efforts to engage with others may be simply a reaction to my inability to feel comfortable alone.

My day started late as I had to pick up my bike from a new friend who was working on it in his shop this morning. He charged me a whopping $27, and that included his driving me to my motel last night. These are good people, and it’s pleasant to interact with them. I had already gotten my smile in as well as some engagement.

The Chief Isadora rail trail led me north out of Cranbrook this morning. It was perfect, with a wonderful surface, grade, and surrounding picturesque mountains and trees. I cruised rapidly for several miles but quickly discovered that a fair number of other people were on the route one way or another. A couple of older gentlemen (my age) stopped to visit with me, and we had a wonderful chat about retirement and how they spent their time doing things like riding through these woods and skiing at Kimberley. I was envious of their living location. It was nice to connect, make new acquaintances, and learn about the area and the good people who live in it.

I stopped near a lake at a picnic table for lunch. A nearby younger gentleman walked over, and we had a 20-minute conversation about mountain biking and backpacking. We discussed different setups, bikes, and locations. I also found out about his family and where he lived and worked. It was nice. It was far better than sitting by myself at a table, wolfing down a sandwich and some Fritos. Darcy was a nice guy and clearly had an interesting life.

Not surprisingly, getting to Fernie took longer than expected, but the whole route became increasingly beautiful. As I got closer, it became even more spectacular, surrounded by glaciated peaks. I was worn out but still enjoying the ride. My friend Gordon and his friend Jen had come out to join me for dinner. Gord was going to ride with me for a few days, and Jen had dropped him off. They waited and had dinner with me even though I was late. It was fun to text ahead and have them order for me so that when I pulled up on the bike, the dinner was ready. A beautiful pasta with duck was waiting for me. W

Being alone is easy on many levels. I sure don’t have to worry about someone else getting things pulled together or about forgetting my first-aid kit. However, being connected has to be one of the greatest joys of life. To sit down at the end of a hard day and have Gord and Jen eat with me while we visited about our day was a treat I’m sure they didn’t fully appreciate, because it was a norm for them. I was profoundly grateful to have that company rather than stare at the wall of my motel room while chewing on a microwave dinner. No, I’m not going crazy being alone, and anybody willing to take this route would probably have to be crazy, so no one is likely to join me. However, I do recognize that it is connections with others that bring richness to life.

Places and things can be incredible, and I’m grateful for the things I’ve seen. However, being connected to people is the real value, and for that I’m really grateful for both the people I know and the people I’m getting to know