The disappearing

[Cudzoziemiec]

Someone asked me recently what I love about cycling, and I answered without hesitation, “the disappearing.” I love the feeling of disappearing into the wind — body in motion, thoughts and breath and anxieties trailing off in my wake. For me, it’s not about the bike or the gear or the fashion statement. It’s about being there, pedaling.

This reminds me somehow of something That Emily Chappell said when she was either riding round the world or fatbiking across Alaska, to the effect that interesting places are interesting to visit, but what she really loves are "the places in between".

The places – or, to be even more accurate, the spaces – in between the things we know and name are, for me, the real stuff of life and of imagination.

https://www.adventurecycling.org/blog/packing-hacks-for-an-inexpensive-bike-tour/
http://thatemilychappell.com/2012/07/the-spaces-in-between/

[perpetual dan]

Thanks for the link to Emily’s always eloquent blog (the other kept reloading on my tablet).

A few years back my perpetual dan twitter account had become very POBI. I didn’t want to ditch twitter, but wanted a place for cycling, adventure, art and music and so on. I settled on between_beyond as a name. The going and the looking to the horizon are a big part of the attraction for me.

[Lightning Phil]

In essence it’s about what the road less travelled is about.  Even if it’s a metaphor for the journeys few undertake, with the few well rewarded.

I used to cycle to keep fit for my mountaineering forays in this country and round the world.  I used to think I had to go to the mountains to find that alternate mental and physical universe.  I’ve come realise I can achieve the same on the bike and time in a few quiet lanes. I can leave from my house and enter that same space I used to journey a long time to reach.

[ravenbait]

For me, it takes me out of my head. There's an almost atavistic reconnection with the act of physically existing as a biological organism, rather than the usual sensation of being a pilot trapped in a meat chassis with concerns and motivations that are counter-productive to the body's health and well-being. Cycling does that for me in a way that running doesn't (although hillwalking does, but somewhat differently). It's the closest I think I will ever get to the experience of flight as a bird would experience it.

Riding my bike makes me happy in a way nothing else does. Having been off the bike for years because of health issues, I don't think I will ever take that for granted again.

Sam

[ian]

I hike more than I cycle, but either way, late in a long day, there's the time when you zone out, the pleasant tiredness, the rhythmic motion of your legs, the slow seep of endorphins. I love that time. There's a hypnagogic quality to your thoughts, random ideas slide around, none of them prompted. The world feels loose-fit. You want to get to your destination but you also don't, there's a part of you that could stay in that state forever, always ahead of the mundane.

[Cudzoziemiec]

Yesterday, someone told me about the British Pilgrimage Trust (in the context of hiking and cheap accommodation). I found this on their 'Holy Places' tab (along with the more obvious churches, wells, trees and so on):

Often it is the land in between the specific holy places that strikes one as holy.

Though they do go on to talk about farms, which are perhaps more places than betweens:

“In the same way that other holy places can be enlivened and refined through conscious attention, whether in the form of meditation, prayer, singing, or simply receiving the impressions of the spiritual practice which went before us with gratitude, the same is true of farms, especially those which are stewarded by human beings who are mindful of their higher responsibilities to look after the earth. When you visit such farms, there is an atmosphere of harmony and beauty which is tangible and possible to perceive if one’s attention is good. The work of the farmers will be helped by your good attention and appreciation.” Patrick Holden, Director of the Sustainable Food Trust.

[Cudzoziemiec]

For me, it takes me out of my head. There's an almost atavistic reconnection with the act of physically existing as a biological organism, rather than the usual sensation of being a pilot trapped in a meat chassis with concerns and motivations that are counter-productive to the body's health and well-being. Cycling does that for me in a way that running doesn't (although hillwalking does, but somewhat differently). It's the closest I think I will ever get to the experience of flight as a bird would experience it.

Riding my bike makes me happy in a way nothing else does. Having been off the bike for years because of health issues, I don't think I will ever take that for granted again.

Sam

To me that makes sense in a way that, to my mind, running is an activity whereas cycling and walking are (or can be but don't have to be) ways of progressing through somewhere on your way from one place to another place. But that might be totally different to the way it makes sense for you.

[ravenbait]

To me that makes sense in a way that, to my mind, running is an activity whereas cycling and walking are (or can be but don't have to be) ways of progressing through somewhere on your way from one place to another place. But that might be totally different to the way it makes sense for you.

Running is effortful. I am sturdy. I've always been sturdy. It is an effort to move my body at anything like speed through the world. When I was at my fastest in triathlon, I was training 16 hours a week and it showed. Even then, running was effortful, and I was relatively slow.

When I run, I am pushing myself to do something my body does not enjoy doing.

Hiking is a more natural pace for me. I could walk all day. I don't feel that clamouring to please stop, please. I might need a breather occasionally, if it's hot or steep, but a few moments and I'm good to go. Likewise cycling. There are times on hills, or in particularly grotty weather, when in the moment it is effortful, but that passes. Then it becomes like flying again. I am not a fan of sufferfest climbs. I don't go out on my bike to punish myself. Running feels like punishment for being sturdy and heavy-footed. With running there have been moments of flying in amongst the suffering, but cycling and hiking only have moments of suffering to punctuate that sense of escape and freedom.

Only cycling has brought me that feeling you get when you've been riding all night and you're tired, you are at your lowest ebb, and then the sun comes up and it's like someone cast a healing spell.

Sam

[arabella]

I think I'll nick someone else's phrase, about audaxing originally:
"so I know that I am alive"