One Less RV - Part 1 (Lluc's Reflection)
Sound has become a feeling
as it whispers over the skin of my face
there are clicks and bumps. Two wheels
lick a sand smeared highway.
We ride along endless waves--look at a map and see how far we came as if in a dream sequence a month has passed.
I only crave five more minutes.
If I can arouse your slightest desire to journey on bicycle then I will consider this a victory.
Fin's devoted readership (you) will not be graced with the daily programming you have come to thirst for. I, the other half, the unheard voice, only seen in pictures or mentioned in an occasional post have come up to bat.
He has asked me on several days to write an editorial piece for the blog, I have declined with excuses ranging from "too tired" to such malignant woes as "I don't have it in me tonight". Rest assured dear readers, these were only ways of putting off the inevitable joy of addressing in writing the thoughts and feelings I have experienced while on the road.
Soon September will have passed and we will have a whole month of riding under our belts, it does not feel like any reality I have ever known. One day Fin brought up the fact that every place we have rode through, the air has passed over our exposed skin. I loved that thought. We have felt every mile of our journey stream over us in an endless whooshing of the sea breeze or otherwise. It leaves a distinct mark, somewhere between the heart and soul. The other cyclists we meet have the same mark on them and there is a comfort in the shared experiences.
We have so much fun.
Some of the best moments in life occur when you realize how much you love something. It may be a favorite food, an ex-lover perhaps. Maybe you receive a cheeky taste of your true love, a glimpse of it from outside the window at work, a smell wafts through the air when you walk down the street… All of the sudden you remember what makes that one thing so good and all the joy from years and years of this one simple thing all have ransacked your mind at once and it all culminates with an infectious smile that melts over your entire being. Fin and I have this about riding bikes every damn day.
Today we guffawed and chortled about how much we love to ride bikes and I started to remember how crazy most people we talk to think we are.
A particular stereotype comes to mind; a white haired couple in their late 50s or 60s topples out of their giant RV at a highway vista point.
"How many miles do you do per day?!"
We get asked that question a lot. Every cycle tourist does.
It is easy for me to say, in the prime of my youth, that you would never catch me red handed behind the wheel of an RV or a F350 with a camper trailer and a KTM attached. I know that one day my body will decline the beatings I so thoroughly relish at this point in my life, until then, Fin and I are one less RV.