Vulnerable

Day 35. Sabbath rest in Esterhazy. Which BTW is the potash capital of the entire world. The picture below is the operation just outside the city. I can only assume that the squarish-shaped mound of Earth has been brought up from the mine some 3,000 ft below. That makes me a little nervous.

Day 36: Esterhazy to Duck Mountain Lodge. 81 miles. 900 feet elevation. Weather wind not helpful.

The wind is one of those things about bicycle touring that reminds you just how vulnerable you are on a bike in the middle of nowhere. Today, my route took me mostly North while the wind came from the northwest. Accordingly, about 80 km of the trip was somewhat against the wind, making every pedal stroke a little harder. I was grateful for every tree along the side of the road as they partially blocked the wind or, at least, mentally it seemed that they did. Thankfully the last 25 km, I was headed east and so had a bit of a push.

Being on a bike in a t-shirt and shorts, as previously noted, makes one very vulnerable. Our society shies away from vulnerability. We don’t even talk to each other face-to-face but rather turn to our phones even when in the company of another person. We go from our locked tight homes to our rolled up window cars and try to avoid eye contact. Yet, vulnerability is the essence of good relationships and happiness. That is one of the reasons I love bicycle touring. It makes me vulnerable and exposed. I learned the lesson again today.

About 20 mi from my destination this afternoon, there was a car pulled over on the side of the road with a man standing beside it, looking towards me. He waved me over. I felt pretty vulnerable. He introduced himself as Kevin, who lived just down the road where I was going to stay. He asked if I was on the GNBR as he had helped develop the route in this area. He then invited me for dinner.

Kevin is my age, and he grew up in this area. They have a summer home that they spend most of their time in right on the lake. I walked over to his house, and we sat on this beach. I jumped off the end of the dock, actually I slowly let myself into the water and had a swim. He then took me to the golf course just down the road and provided me dinner. His wife was playing in a woman’s tournament that night, and so I was able to meet her while we ate. Kevin knew everything about the area having grown up here and gave me a wonderful tour of this marvelous Duck Mountain provincial park. As it turns out, this is the furthest south edge of the boreal forest – look that one up.

There’s wonderful power in not having power and control. Being susceptible to the elements makes you mindful of God. I suspect farmers feel this way all the time as they plant crops and then wait for rain. My susceptibility is self-imposed, but it still brings the same result. Being in the elements makes you grateful to God first for seeing, hearing, and feeling nature and second for surviving. And being in a vulnerable position exposes you directly to other humans. Yes, they might be bad, but you will never know any good without opening up the door. Yes, my results may be skewed because I’m in Canada, but how wonderful it is to be connected with great people like Kevin and his wife.